


Death from Within

by Disasteriffic_Kaz



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Caring, Case Fic, Gen, Horror, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-16
Packaged: 2018-01-19 16:54:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1477072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Disasteriffic_Kaz/pseuds/Disasteriffic_Kaz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Monster of the Week turns out to be more than the boys bargained for within an abandoned hotel in the Nevada desert. post 1x09 "Home" hurt/comfort/awesome!Sam/Dean</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Beta'd by the Always Awesome JaniceC678** \- Friend and Muse's co-conspirator

_**Follow me on Facebook as "Disasteriffic Kaz" for frequent fic updates or just to chat!_ _**  
** _ **_~Reviews are Love~_ **

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**Chapter 1**

Sam woke slowly and rolled his head off the window. He groaned softly when the motion made his abused neck ache and brought a hand up to rub it. "Crap."

"You good, Sammy?" Dean asked, glancing worriedly at him from behind the wheel.

"Uh, yeah. Nothing coffee wouldn't fix." Sam pushed himself up in the seat and smiled tiredly then looked out at the road. "Where are we?"

"Hit the road and pointed her west." Dean smiled and patted the steering wheel fondly. "We're maybe, generally, heading in the direction of Vegas."

Sam groaned and then chuckled. "Dude, I am not up for a Vegas week yet."

Dean chuckled but didn't answer, leaving Sam to lean over the back seat and dig around for a bottle of water. Inside, he was anything but content. The bruises on Sam's throat had started coming up shortly after they'd left, and they were like accusations to Dean of his failure to watch out for his little brother. Worse, though, was that he'd received coordinates from Dad while Sam was asleep, and that…that was killing him a little.

He hadn't even called. Dean had called for the first time ever asking – begging - for his father's help, and Dad had just…abandoned them to that house and it had nearly claimed his little brother's life a second time. Dean couldn't even begin to think how to deal with that. It was the first time in his life that he felt a crack in the image he'd always had of their father. Each time he thought about it, about the message he had left that their Dad hadn't bothered to even answer, much less come help them, each time he remembered finding Sam nearly unconscious on the floor having the life strangled out of him and being unable to loosen the cord wound around his neck...Dean had trouble just breathing. Add to that the gut-wrenching encounter with the ghost of their long-dead mother…..and now John expected them to just move on to his next assignment for them as if nothing had happened?

He pushed the thoughts away yet again and shoved them down deep. "We're not actually going to Vegas. We're heading to Goldfield. It's a little outside of Vegas." He'd checked the map when he stopped for gas two hours ago and Sam hadn't even stirred. "Think I found us a hunt." He didn't want Sam to know that their father had ignored them; he didn't want to see the look of resigned acceptance on his little brother's face.

"Goldfield?" Sam turned back around with two bottles of water and settled in the seat as he handed one over to Dean. "When did you find a hunt?"

Dean took the bottle and smirked. "Dude, you've been out cold for like seven hours. Did a little digging when I stopped for gas before we left Kansas."

Sam shrugged. "Ok, then what's the job?"

In truth, Dean wasn't entirely sure. The little he'd been able to find online was anything but conclusive. "Vengeful spirit maybe? Could be a pissed off house gnome too." He snorted at the look of disgust on Sam's face. They'd come across three very irritable, very creative house gnomes when Sam was still in his teens, and he didn't think his little brother was ever going to forget being dipped in wallpaper glue and rolled through a bed of tulips. He grinned; neither was he. "Probably not the gnomes though. They don't usually kill people."

Sam huffed out a relieved breath and smiled self-consciously. "If it is, you're on your own."

Dean reached across and slapped his arm. "Whatever, bitch. You know you'll come with. Anyway, I figure you can research it more once we get there."

"And find it faster than you. No problem." Sam smiled and sipped at his water while Dean glared at him. It dawned on Sam that the levity felt a little forced and he knew why they were both doing it. It was either that or curl up in a little ball in a corner somewhere and sob for a while; at least it was for Sam. He couldn't get the image of his mother's face out of his mind. Her smile was haunting him and her words to him…'I'm sorry.' Sam sighed. He couldn't think what it was his mother could have to be sorry for, but it frightened him on some fundamental level he didn't understand. He put a hand to his throat again and swallowed hard. All else aside, he'd gotten to see her again; his mother. Finally he had a new memory of her that didn't involve the flames that would sometimes eat away at his nightmares from a barely-remembered horror he only saw when he slept.

"Dude, you awake over there?"

Sam jerked his head over to his brother and realized Dean had been talking to him. "Sorry. Yeah. What?"

Dean frowned. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine."

"Uh huh," Dean said, unconvinced. As hard as being home had been for Dean, it had been worse for Sam. He'd have been surprised if he wasn't a little off his game right then. "Grab the map. Find us somewhere to stop for food. I'm starving." He could see the bitch-face his little brother was wearing that he knew damn well was the result of an aborted whine about not being hungry, but, if Dean said he was starving, then Sam would shut up and he could get some food in the hulk's mouth. He smirked. He certainly hadn't lost his touch managing Sammy.

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Joe parked his truck outside the Goldfield Hotel and smiled as Ellie and Matt parked their van behind him. He climbed out in the late afternoon sun to look up at the massive building and grinned as he took in the weathered stone structure and sand-grimed windows.

"What do you think, Joe?" Ellie bounced out of the cab of the silver van and came over to lean on his shoulder. "We gonna find something?"

Joe nodded and leaned back, mussing a hand through Ellie's blonde spikes. "Yep. Feelin' good about this one. We're gonna find something tonight."

"Ghosts, dude." Matt shook his head with a laugh and pulled open the van's side door. "I still think you're full of crap, but I don't argue with Ellie."

"That's 'cause you love me, baby." Ellie chuckled and went over to drop a kiss on Matt's cheek above his black beard and ran a hand over his white, shaved head.

"Naw, I just wanna follow you around lookin' at your ass with a night vision camera all night." Matt grinned. "You two are trackin' ghosts. I'm just trackin' bootie."

"Asshole!" Ellie laughed and pulled a box out of the van.

"At least he's an honest asshole. Come on!" Joe chuckled, took a box from Matt and headed for the doors. He narrowed his eyes at the broken, yellow crime scene tape fluttering in the desert breeze. "Huh. Wonder what happened."

"Must not have been too bad." Matt pulled a piece of the crime scene tape loose and draped it around his neck. "No cops watching the place to keep out us helpless folk."

"Good point. Let's get set up. There's a ballroom on the second floor that should make a good home base." Joe balanced his box with one hand and dug his flashlight out of his pocket.

"Wait up, guys!" Ellie called and jogged up the stairs into the door, she, like them, too preoccupied to have noticed the tail end of the empty police cruiser parked at the end of the hotel or the bloody handprint glistening on its white trunk.

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"Well, this isn't good." Sam turned and found his brother sitting a few feet away making eyes at the pretty young woman behind the desk in the library. Sam rolled his eyes and reached out a long arm to grab the back of his brother's chair. He wheeled him over to the table with a snort of amusement for Dean's disappointed groan and tapped the newspapers spread out in front of him. "Job, Dean?"

"Sexy time, Sammy. Way more important," Dean grinned and nodded.

"She's jailbait, dude. At least pick someone in your age range."

"You tryin' to say I'm old?"

Sam laughed and shrugged. "I didn't say it, old man. Look." He took the slap to the back of his head with a laugh and held up one of the papers. "This is from two days ago. So, according to this, a guy got…well…mangled and dismembered in that old hotel. They found bits of him. They're still missing an arm."

"Yeesh." Dean grabbed the paper and quickly scanned the article. "The one I read said two people had been killed in the last couple weeks. Attacked by something, but they were still whole when they were found. Whatever this is, it's stepping up its game, and it kind of rules out a vengeful spirit."

Sam nodded. "Probably. I want a look at the bodies in the morgue. This latest one should still be there."

"Great. Time to go play connect the body parts." Dean groaned and rubbed his stomach. "Kinda wish I hadn't had that second helping of bacon."

"Third," Sam said with a smirk as he stood. "And two orders of pancakes. I'm gonna laugh when you can't button your pants anymore."

Dean reached out and slapped the back of his brother's head again. "Shut up, bitch. I have a fast metabolism." He slowed behind Sam to smile at the librarian and make her blush and gave Sam a shameless grin when his brother rolled his eyes at him. "You wish you had my game."

"Can we go be grown-ups now, please?" Sam asked in a long-suffering tone and held the library door open for his brother. "If I had your game, I'd need shots on a regular basis."

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Dean swallowed hard…again…as he watched Sam picking through the remains of John Doe. The cops hadn't managed to identify the body yet. "Well, he's gonna have a closed casket."

"These look like teeth marks," Sam said and held up an arm, turning the stump end toward Dean, and he poked a blood-slicked gloved finger at a protruding bone. "Look."

"Uh…yep." Dean groaned and swallowed.

Sam smirked and set the arm down. He bent over the remains of the torso again and put a magnifying glass over a deep gash near the ribs. "This looks like something clawed him right into his chest cavity. Uh…hand me the uh…the spreader."

Dean rolled his eyes and handed the tool to his brother. "You are tryin' to make me toss my cookies, aren't you?"

Sam chuckled and shoved the metal rib spreader into the wound. He grimaced at the 'sucking' sound it made and wasn't surprised when Dean wandered away to look at something else. Of the two of them, his bad-ass, tough-talking big brother definitely had the weaker stomach when it came to things truly gross and disgusting.

Dean grabbed the medical examiner's report again. He'd read it twice already, but it was either that or watch Sam yank the poor guy's ribs out and he wanted his lunch to stay where he'd put it. He snorted again as he read the file. "Can't believe they think a bear killed the guy." He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, 'cause there's so many bears loose in Nevada hotels." He looked over when Sam yelped painfully under his breath. "Dude, the spreader's for the ribs, not your fingers."

"Shuddup." Sam shook his left hand out and then looked at the small hole in the palm of the glove. "Dammit." He went to the sink at the side of the room and hastily pulled the gloves off, turned it on and ran his hand under it.

"Shit, Sam." Dean looked around his shoulder and saw the bleeding wound in his palm. Dean grabbed the M.E.'s report with renewed interest and scanned the blood test results. He blew out a breath in relief and tossed it on the counter. "He's clean. Lucky you."

Sam nodded and swallowed, knowing he dodged a bullet. "Must have been a rib fragment. Crap. That hurts." He took the towels Dean handed him and dried off his hand, pressing them into his palm to stop the bleeding.

"Gotta be bandages around here somewhere," Dean said and started rifling through the drawers. "You find anything interesting in there, Dr. Mengele?"

"Other than whatever stabbed me?" Sam said ruefully. He held his hand up and narrowed his eyes. "Really stabbed me. Damn." The puncture in his palm was roughly half an inch wide and looked like a hole. "Uh, just more teeth marks."

"Here, gimme that." Dean popped open a bottle of rubbing alcohol he'd unearthed, grabbed Sam's wrist and poured it over the wound. He grinned when Sam hissed out a breath and tried to jerk his hand free. "Little sting's good for ya, Sammy."

Sam glared at him. "That what you tell your dates?"

"Ouch. Low, dude." Dean poured more alcohol into the wound with a smile just to make Sam twitch and set it aside. "Alright, alright. Stop whining, princess."

"Jerk," Sam grumbled and tried to hold his hand still while Dean wrapped a thick layer of gauze around his palm and tied it off. He took his arm back when his brother was done and rubbed his forearm. "Think I hit a nerve. Hurts all the way up into my shoulder."

Dean frowned while Sam went back to look over the body and promised himself to keep an eye on that hand. Disease free didn't mean Sam couldn't catch something from the dead guy. "Ok, back to the motel to gear up and then we'll go check out the Goldfield."

Sam nodded. "Works for me." He straightened his suit tie and pulled at the neck of his shirt while he followed Dean out of the morgue. He was more than ready to get out of the monkey suit as it seemed to get hotter the moment they stepped outside. "Next time, you can crack the ribs open. Geez." The pain moved up his arm into his shoulder and he rubbed it to relieve the ache.

Dean strode to the Impala, gleaming in the late day sun and grinned. "You need me to kiss it and make it better, princess?"

"Bite me, Dean," Sam said with a dirty look and sincerely hoped this wasn't the first blood he was going to lose to whatever was killing people in the Goldfield Hotel.

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_To Be Continued._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Aw, what the hell is this?" Dean grumbled as he parked the Impala in front of the Goldfield Hotel and behind a truck and a van. "This place is supposed to be deserted."

Sam climbed out of the car and shook his head. "Tourists maybe?" He gazed up at the weathered building and then along its façade and frowned. "Dean." He pointed to the back end of a police cruiser just visible at the far end of the hotel in the fading daylight. Night would fall in minutes and the air already held a desert chill.

"Awesome." Dean rolled his eyes and checked to make sure he had his FBI badge. "Got your creds?"

"Yeah." Sam straightened his jacket and gave a lopsided smile. "I'll go talk to them. You get the gear."

"Hey! How is that a division of labor?" Dean snarked at him but headed for the trunk.

"I don't irritate local law enforcement like you do," Sam called back and strode down the sand-covered sidewalk in front of the hotel. There were only a few buildings left on either side of it, and they were all dark and boarded up, long since abandoned with the failure of the hotel. He rubbed absently at his left shoulder. It ached almost more than his hand at that point, but he shrugged it off as he neared the car and reached into his pocket for his fake badge. He froze with his hand mid-way as he reached the car and a last ray of sunlight shone on the trunk for a second before fading completely.

"Oh, crap," Sam said softly. He looked quickly around and drew his gun instead of the badge. He circled the cruiser warily with his eyes on the drying, bloodied handprint there on the white paint. Something bad had happened; that much was clear. He frowned again to find the cruiser empty and walked quickly back out from the side of the building.

"Sammy?" Dean called as his brother reappeared and he read the tension in Sam's body like a book; something was wrong. "Shit." He hefted the weapons bag higher on his shoulder and drew his own weapon when he saw that Sam had his gun out. "What's going on?"

Sam jogged back to him and shook his head. "I don't know. The car's empty but there's dried blood on the trunk so…nothing good."

"This just gets better and better." Dean looked up the tall front of the brick building again, and this time it appeared sinister in the deepening dusk. He shivered. "Lookie-loos and at least one missing cop wandering around while we've got something to gank."

Sam nodded and went to the front doors. He pointed to the tape with a raised brow and got an answering nod from Dean before he pulled the door open. It was surprisingly quiet, and Sam stepped into what had once been a grand entryway, leading with his gun. He fumbled his flashlight out of his pocket with his sore hand and whistled softly when he flicked it on. "This place must have been beautiful back in the day." He shined his light around the expansive lobby, wood tiling, and dusty chandelier still hanging overhead. "You know this place was built on top of two other hotels with the same name?" He looked over at his brother and shrugged. "They both burnt to the ground.

"Not inspiring me with confidence here, dude," Dean said ruefully. "Maybe it is a vengeful spirit after all. Don't suppose you found mention of anyone dying during the fires?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing. Doesn't mean it isn't, but…" He sighed and looked around the lobby again. "I don't know. It doesn't feel like a spirit."

"Well, better safe than sorry." Dean pulled out his EMF and turned it on. It whined softly, but the needle stayed mostly in the green. "Huh. Nothing here, anyway."

"We should split up," Sam said and smirked when Dean opened his mouth to shoot down the idea. "Dude, this place is huge. Four floors in a U-shape plus the basement level, and I've got the spare EMF." He put his flashlight in his mouth for a moment to reach in his pocket and turn it on. He pulled the flashlight back out and smiled. "I'll hear it if anything ghostly tries to pop out at me."

Dean opened his mouth, closed it and glared. "Thought you said it didn't feel like a spirit. There's plenty of other stuff that will leave you dead and bloody that doesn't set off the EMF. You call me every ten minutes. I don't hear from you, I'm calling you, 'cause you're right; this place is huge. I'd never hear it if something did take a chunk out of you."

"I'm not a kid, Dean," Sam said and rolled his eyes before heading to the left wing. "I can handle myself. You should worry about who drove those vehicles out front." He looked back at Dean with a grin. "Could be a cheerleading team."

Dean blew out a breath and flipped his brother off. "It's called a squad, Sam." He waited a moment and then chuckled. "You see a door with a pom-pom a-rockin' on the knob, keep walkin'."

"Dude, don't put those images in my head!" Sam groaned and quickly headed away before Dean could disturb him further.

Dean chuckled and took out his own flashlight. "Geek," he said softly and started into the right wing. He heard Sam sneeze from the other hall and snorted. "Serves him right," he laughed under his breath and started pushing open long-closed doors onto empty, or nearly empty rooms. He had worked his way almost to a door marked 'stairs' when his phone vibrated in his back pocket. The low hum was eerily loud in the silence and made him jump.

"You still kickin'?" Dean asked as he answered the phone and could picture his little brother rolling his eyes.

"Yes, Dean. Nothing's tried to eat me." Sam shook his head fondly for his big brother's over-protective streak and smiled. "Where are you?"

"Getting ready to head up to the second floor. I got bupkis so far. You?" Dean aimed his light into a last empty room and went for the stairs.

"The same. Found a lot of footprints through the dust, but that's about it." Sam put his hand to his suddenly upset stomach and grimaced. "No blood. No bodies. No nothing."

"Ok, ten minutes and then check…" He broke off when he heard the sound of Sam gasping softly. "Sammy? What's wrong?" Dean started back the way he'd come instantly with worry flowing through him. Why had he let Sam go off on his own? What the hell had he been thinking after what had happened back at Lawrence?

"Geez, Dean. It's a stomach cramp," Sam said dismissively. "Calm down." He rubbed a hand over his stomach, pleading silently with it to stop and breathed a sigh of relief when the cramp eased.

"You sure?" Dean asked and slowed his pace at the clearly unworried tone of Sam's voice.

Sam chuckled. "Unless you really feel like you need to run over here and bring me some Rolaids. Yes, Dean, I can handle a stomach ache."

"Ten minutes," Dean said shortly and ended the call on his brother's laugh. "Pain in my ass, Sammy," he muttered and turned back to the stairs.

Sam sighed and pushed open a set of double doors onto an old kitchen. For once, he wasn't lying and trying to cover up a worse injury. It really was just a stomach cramp. His left hand felt a little too warm, but that was likely a response to the injury and nothing to worry about so long as he kept it clean. "Such a mother hen," he said with a smirk as he thought of Dean and shone his light around the big room. There was precious little left of the kitchen. The appliances had long ago been carted away. All that remained were countertops with missing drawers and the hoods that had once covered the ovens. Everything was covered in a heavy layer of dust, and again Sam found footprints, some beginning to fade under the dust and others more crisp and recent as though the feet that had left them had been through recently.

"Hello?" Sam called hesitantly. If there were other people in the building, he didn't want to startle them by sneaking up and waving a gun around. His voice echoed in the room and he shrugged. He searched the room and found three entry pantries and two refrigeration units whose doors had been torn off at some point in the past.

Sam headed back to the hall and just as he opened the door, a horrible, agonized scream echoed through the building. "Dean!" Sam shouted and ran for the stairs while he fumbled his phone out of his pocket, his stomach pain forgotten. He ran up the first flight of stairs and was dialing Dean one-handed by the time he hit the second. He almost dropped his phone when it rang in his hand and he answered it in a rush.

"Dean! Are you alright?"

"Sammy?" Dean's voice rode over his brother's. "Was that you?"

Sam slowed for a moment at the top of the stairs and caught his breath. "No. No, it's not me. I'm fine. So it wasn't you?"

"Holy crap." Dean was dizzy with relief for a second and steadied himself on the wall. "Not me either, but it's on the second floor where I am."

"I'm coming up to you." Sam pulled open the door onto the second floor and waved his flashlight around the darkened hall. "I can't hear anything now."

"Me either, but I think it came from somewhere in the center of the building." Dean propped his phone on his shoulder so he could have both hands free for his gun and his light. "Sweep in from your side and call if you find something before I find you."

"Same goes." Sam swallowed the lump of cold fear that had lodged in his throat when he'd heard the scream and put his phone back in his pocket before starting a quick search of each room as he passed. For a moment, he'd kicked himself for leaving Dean on his own. It wasn't that his brother couldn't take care of himself, but Sam never would have forgiven himself if something had happened to Dean, especially when he had been the one to push for splitting up.

Sam moved more quickly through the halls and rooms than he had on the floor below, intent on finding Dean and finding whoever had screamed. He didn't think they were going to find anyone alive, not after that sound. It was the kind of scream a person only made when they thought their life was about to end. He would know. He'd heard it often enough in his life, and they had not always gotten there in time. He paused at a corner when he heard footsteps and tightened his grip on his gun.

"Dean?" Sam called and smiled when he heard the soft whistle. He stepped around the corner and watched Dean jogging toward him from the other end.

Dean gave Sam a quick look up and down when he reached him, making sure he wasn't sporting any new wounds and then nodded. "There's a set of double doors back there," he told Sam softly. "Sign on them says 'ballroom'. I'm betting that's where our screamer is."

"Let's go." Sam strode along beside him and knew they were both now hyperaware. He could see the same tension in Dean's movements that he knew was in his own. They reached the doors and Sam took one leaf while Dean took the other.

Dean held up three fingers, counted in his head, and together they pulled the doors wide and slid into the room with their flashlights sighted along their guns. "Son of a bitch," Dean breathed and for the second time that day was fighting to keep his lunch where it belonged.

"Oh, my God," Sam whispered. Several tables had been set up though two were overturned. Boxes lay strewn about and several computers still sat on the one standing table, their screens lending an eerie, blue light to the scene. Blood had been sprayed everywhere. It looked like someone had taken a paint brush and tried to cast it as far and wide as possible. In the center of the destruction lay a body. "Is he…"

"He's twitching. Holy crap, he's still alive. Sam." Dean nodded and started scanning the room with his light.

Sam followed the unspoken order and went to the victim. The man lay on his back. His right arm was gone at the elbow, and his left leg looked as though someone…or something…had tried to twist it loose at the knee. Sam knelt by his bald head and the twitching stub of his arm and put his fingers to the man's neck. "Yeah, he's alive. Barely. His pulse is weak." He turned to find Dean. "We've got to get him to help quick."

"Crap," Dean moved closer to them and ground his teeth together. "It'd take an ambulance an hour to get out here."

Sam shoved his gun at his back, trusting Dean to protect him and pulled over a few lengths of wire. "We can take him. You'll get him there faster." He hastily tied one length of the wire above the man's elbow and pulled it as tight as he could until he saw the blood flow begin to slow.

Dean shook his head while Sam moved to the man's leg and repeated the act of tying the wire around below his knee. It was a desperate attempt to save someone Dean was sure was probably already dead, but that was Sam. If there was a chance, he was going to try. "I'll hotwire the truck out front. We can lay him out in the bed and you keep him still while I haul ass."

Sam looked up from tying the wire with a grim smile. "You're just gonna leave the Impala out front?"

"Well, he's not bleedin' all over my interior!" Dean said firmly, but it wasn't just that. The man was too tall for them to put him in the backseat, not with his injuries. "If he lives, that leg is gone."

Sam nodded solemnly. "We need to move."

"I don't like this," Dean said softly and took a last look around the ballroom. "Why'd it - whatever it is - just leave him like that? And where are the others? He didn't come here alone. There was at least one other person driving that other car."

"Don't know." Sam took the man's head and shoulders in his arms while Dean moved to his feet. "Gift horses."

"Yeah." Dean picked up the man's bottom half as carefully as he could with a grunt of effort and tried to keep one hand free for his gun while Sam's flashlight shone from his grip across the man's chest. "This is gonna be awkward."

"Should be stairs across the hall somewhere." Sam tried not to think too hard about the blood slicking his hands and had to adjust his grip for his sore left hand. "Leading down to the entrance hall." He grimaced as they moved and his stomach cramped again. Sam shoved the discomfort away. There was no time for it with a man's life at stake. They found the stairs and started down them as fast as they dared with the man's considerable weight. "What are we…gonna tell…hospital?"

Dean snorted and tried to watch where he was putting his feet, wondering how he ended up walking backward down the stairs instead of Sam. "I dunno. Can't say we…found him…crap, hang on." Dean stumbled slightly and righted himself. "Can't say we found him here. It'd be crawling with cops…shit, this guy's heavy."

Sam nodded. "'Til he wakes up…and tells them. Almost there."

Dean glanced over his shoulder and saw the bottom of the stairs. "Dude." He looked up and met Sam's eyes, not needing words to communicate what he thought the odds of the man ever waking up were. He looked away from the sadness in Sam's eyes. Losing people was never easy. It didn't matter that they didn't even know the man's name. He was their responsibility now along with anyone else who died before they finished the job. And that brought up another sticky dilemma. "Sam, you know there's gotta be at least two more people in here somewhere; the cop and whoever drove the other car. We take this guy into town, we're gonna be abandoning them…and considering the condition he's in..."

Sam glanced up at him, and it was clear from his expression that the same thought had occurred to him. "I know," he said sadly. "But we can't just let him die if there's even a chance."

Dean nodded, knowing that Sam would never be able to live with himself if they didn't try. On his own, Dean wasn't sure what choice he would have made. He hated the idea of abandoning anyone who might be left behind. When they got to the main lobby area with the door just feet away, he paused, looking back into the depths of the building. Taking a breath, and breaking every rule he had learned about NOT attracting attention to yourself on a hunt, he yelled as loud as he could, "Is there anyone here who needs help? Anybody?" The sound seemed to echo around the empty building, but there was no answering cry that they could hear. Not wasting any time after having created such a commotion Dean signaled to Sam to move again and they quickly exited the building.

The drive out of Goldfield and into Vegas was a mad rush along mostly empty roads until they reached the city. Dean had easily hotwired the truck and wove in and out of traffic with the ease of long practice. Sam braced himself in the bed of the truck with the man's upper body in his lap so he could keep him as still as possible. He smiled grimly down at the stranger as he held on to life in spite of the odds. The man was tough.

Dean parked in front of the first emergency room he found and was out of the truck and running inside for help. He spun a story of finding the man on the road outside of town and jogged back out to find Sam already opening the bed of the truck. "He's in the back." Dean told the nurses with the gurney and moved to his brother as Sam jumped down. "What?" he asked under his breath. Sam had a strange look on his face.

Sam shook his head for Dean to wait while they maneuvered the stranger out of the truck and onto a gurney. There was a pool of blood in the bed of the truck, smeared this way and that from the hectic drive. Once they were alone, Sam went to rub a hand over his face and then grimaced at all the blood, dried and fresh, on his skin. He dropped it to his side and met Dean's eyes. "He woke up about ten minutes ago, just for a minute. He had two other people with him in the hotel."

"Son of a bitch," Dean groaned while guilt twisted in his gut at the now sure knowledge they had left people to die in there. He grabbed an old rag from the truck bed and tossed it to his brother. "What'd he say?"

Sam got in the passenger seat as Dean went around and climbed behind the wheel. "He kept muttering about someone named Ellie and another guy, Joe I think he said; but mostly he called for Ellie." He wiped at his hands with the rag, trying to clear the blood away as best he could and the blood-soaked gauze around his left hand made his stomach churn unhappily again.

"He mention what did that to him?" Dean asked while he pulled away from the hospital before someone inside remembered to come looking for the good Samaritans with questions.

Sam shook his head. "No. Just that it got his friends. He said it took them, whatever that means."

Dean reached over and pushed the weapons bag between them toward Sam. "Get that gauze off your hand and clean the wound before it gets infected or something." The gauze he'd put over his brother's palm was dark with the man's blood and made him nervous. "Maybe we should go back and let them look at that."

"Dude, it's fine," Sam said quickly and dug the alcohol and a fresh roll of gauze from the bag while he rolled his eyes. "Better than it was, actually. My arm stopped hurting finally."

"That's a relief." Dean aimed them out of Vegas again. He wanted to call it a night and go back to their motel, but if the man they'd saved had woken once, he could wake again and they might only have hours before he told someone where he really was and the Goldfield would be crawling with cops - cannon fodder, he thought to himself as whatever was doing the killing was clearly vicious.

"I wish he'd told me his name," Sam whispered while he poured alcohol over his hand, letting it run down onto the floorboard. He clenched his teeth at the sting and then started wrapping a fresh bandage around it. "I checked his pockets. No ID."

"Hey, he made it that far." Dean smiled at Sam. "The guy's a fighter."

"We have to find his friends." Sam tossed the alcohol and gauze back in the bag. "One way or another, he should know what happened to them." He settled a hand over his stomach and the lingering ache there while they drove.

"We'll find them." Dean's eyes were firmly on the road but his thoughts were ahead with the old hotel and how they were going to find something in a place that big without one of them becoming lunch.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Dean watched the hulk of the Goldfield rise like a dark shadow against the sky as they neared. He parked the pickup truck in front of the hotel and got out with his brother, having to blink to let his eyes adjust to the near total darkness of the Nevada desert as there were no street lights there, at least none working. He walked back to the Impala and ran a hand along her black hood in an almost subconscious gesture of affection. "I'm gonna move her over behind that empty hardware store two doors down," he told Sam when his brother walked over with the weapons bag on his shoulder. "If the cops do show up, I don't want them finding her sitting out here with these two."

"Good idea," Sam nodded, set the bag down on the sandy sidewalk and drew his gun. "I'll wait here."

"I'll be quick. Don't go in there without me," Dean said severely. "I mean it, Sammy. We're not splitting up this time."

"Don't worry." Sam looked up at the hotel. "I'm all for sticking together this time." He didn't ever want to find out what it felt like to lose a limb and thought of the poor man they'd left at the hospital with a shiver.

"Good." Dean slid behind the Impala's wheel and turned the engine on, watching the beams from his headlights wash over his brother as he backed up and then turned around.

Sam watched him go, following the lights as Dean pulled away down the road and then turned out of sight. He pulled his jacket closed with his sore left hand and then froze at the sound of a bump from behind him. He spun on his heel, bringing his gun up and stared at the side of the silver van. A moment later, he heard another soft thump and went quickly to the side door. Sam took hold of it, took a deep breath, and yanked it open.

"No! No! Please, God. No! Don't kill me!"

Sam whipped his flashlight out of his pocket and flicked it on. He stared in surprise to find a young man cowering in the back of the van. "Hey. Hey, it's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you." He waited until the man's wide, terrified eyes rose up from behind his arms to meet his and smiled. "We're here to help, alright? Are you…are you Joe?"

"I…yeah." Joe scrubbed a bloody hand through his hair as if unaware of it and tried to catch his breath.

"Are you hurt?" Sam moved into the side of the van and shined his light down Joe's body.

"Matt…Matt's dead, and Ellie is…oh, my God. I didn't even…oh, God!" Joe buried his face in his arms again. "I ran! I ran, and my truck was just…it was gone, and Matt…didn't have the keys for his van!"

"Hey, take it easy." Sam put his gun away and leaned in to put his free hand on Joe's shoulder. He scowled when he saw the bleeding wounds on the man's arms. "Matt's alive. We found him and took him to the nearest hospital, and I'm sorry." Sam spoke softly to try and calm the distraught man. "We took your truck to get him there." He pulled the sleeve of Joe's t-shirt up higher and his brows rose. There were clear claw marks on his bicep. They were deep and looked like something mean had held onto him. "Can you tell me what did this? What attacked you? What did it look like?"

"Death," Joe gasped and shrank further back into the van. "I…it didn't have…it didn't have any skin!" He shouted it and gripped a sudden hold on Sam's left hand, oblivious to the pained wince Sam gave at the action.

"Alright! It's ok. You're safe now. We'll…" Sam stopped when Joe's eyes suddenly shot wide and looked over his shoulder. An icy chill flowed down his spine, and he knew it wasn't his brother behind him.

"Sorry. I'm sorry. I can't…" Joe shoved Sam away from him and screamed in terror while a dark shape rose up behind the tall man. Joe put all his weight behind the sliding door and slammed it shut just as something heavy struck the side of the van from the outside, and then there was only silence and the sound of his panicked breathing.

Dean parked the Impala and ran a hand over her steering wheel. "Sorry we left you, baby," He said fondly and then climbed out into the alley. He locked the car up and took off at a jog. As he neared the front of the old shop, he heard a man's voice scream that chilled him to the bone. "No," Dean breathed and broke into a run. He couldn't see a damn thing and pulled his flashlight out with one shaking hand while he drew his gun with the other. He sprinted the block and a half back to where he'd left Sam and slid to a stop beside the van where the weapon's bag and Sam's flashlight lay on the ground, still on with the beam pointing toward the hotel's entrance.

"SAM!" Dean bellowed it into the night and listened for a response. His heart was thundering in his ears, and it took a moment to realize he could hear sobbing from inside the van on his left. Dean knew every sound Sam made when hurt or scared or panicked, and he knew that, whoever it was in the van, it wasn't Sam. He tore the door open. "Hey!" He yelled and aimed his light at the head of the man cowering in the back.

"Took him. Took him," Joe muttered in between sobs as he rocked back and forth and curled around himself.

Dean glared and reached in to grab one of the man's arms. "HEY! Look at me!"

Joe's head snapped up and he realized the door was open and the tall man was back. He gasped in shock and lurched forward to grab his arms. "You're alive? But…it took you! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Dean listened to the delirious rambling for a second and put it together in his head, and the picture he got made his stomach churn with fear for his little brother. Sam must have found this man, and whatever had attacked the man they'd saved had come out after Sam…or this guy. Dean pulled his arms free and dragged the frantic man out of the van. He slammed him against the side without pity because he knew, from the rambling the guy was doing, that he'd watched Sam be taken and done nothing. There was no worse offense in Dean's book; it was as good as hurting Sam yourself.

"No, no, no! Not out here. Please!" Joe tried to pull away, but the tall man had a fierce grip on the neck of his shirt. He blinked and realized suddenly that it wasn't the same man. His hair was different…lighter. "Who…"

"What happened to my brother? He tried to save you, didn't he?" Dean leaned in to his face. "And you watched him be taken." He narrowed his eyes when the man's face paled in the beam of his light. "You shut the van door on him, didn't you? You left him to whatever the hell hurt your friends."

Joe quailed at the cold, dangerous tone in the tall man's voice and shook his head. "I couldn't…I had to!"

"Tell me everything. Now!" Dean gave his back an extra thump into the van. "You're Joe, aren't you?"

Joe nodded furiously and held onto the man's forearm. His eyes darted between the dark face and the darker hulk of the hotel behind him, waiting for the horror to come out after him again. "Please, please let me go. Please!"

"Not until you tell me what you saw. What happened?" Dean moved so that he could still stare Joe down but still keep his peripheral vision on the hotel. "What did this?"

"I…It's riding a…some kind of dead…dead looking horse or something." Joe swallowed hard. "But it…it has no skin, man! And there's….it…I can't. I can't!" Joe shouted and twisted mightily until he was able to free himself. He threw himself back in the van. He'd reached the end of his rope and had nothing left but the need to hide.

Dean let him go. Joe couldn't tell him anything more, not in his condition. "Son of a bitch!" Dean kicked the side of the van as Joe slammed the door shut again. "Alright." He grabbed the weapons bag and put it over his shoulder and headed for the doors. "I'm comin' for you, Sammy."

He stalked into the hotel and played his light over the floor. Dean was grateful now that the place was slowly being reclaimed by the desert and that sand and dust covered almost everything. He could see clear drag marks on the floor. Dean frowned as he followed them. There were only drags marks; only the sign of someone dragging both feet as often as he could to try and make a trail. There was no sign whatsoever of what was dragging his brother. It left no tracks or prints of its own.

"Crap," Dean shook his head and walked faster. It narrowed the list of possible suspects but he didn't have a supernatural encyclopedia in his head like Sam did. Just to be sure, he pulled the EMF meter out to check again since spirits were number one on the list of things that don't leave footprints, but it remained frustratingly silent, and Dean shoved it impatiently back into his pocket. The trail led to the stairs and Dean ran up them. "Sam!" he called at the top on the second floor. Dean found more scuffs in the dust. They weren't solid drag marks anymore; it looked more like the thing, whatever it was, was carrying him and Sam was only managing to get a foot down to the floor intermittently. Dean couldn't understand why, if Sam was conscious enough to leave a trail, he didn't make some noise and call out. It scared him. He wondered if the son of a bitch was choking his little brother, and the last thing Sam needed was to be strangled again so soon after the last. The bruises on his throat from the lamp cord had yet to fade.

Dean tossed caution out the window with his brother in danger. If he was lucky, the thing would turn around and come back for him. "SAM!" He bellowed his brother's name again and it rang in the silence. "Sam, answer me!" He strode at a near run down the hall, following the broken trail and jerked in surprise when he heard the muffled pop-pop of gunshots. "SAM!" They had come from the floor above and Dean ran for the next flight of stairs. Dean tore up them, ignoring his burning lungs and the stitch in his side as he reached the top and burst into the hall.

"Dean!" Sam's voice echoed through the hall.

Dean started running again and swallowed the fear. Sam didn't sound right. He sounded hurt. He slid into a wall and turned the corner into a wide area that had once been some sort of sitting room. There were several ratty chairs along the walls, and his little brother lying on the floor and blinking in the beam from Dean's flashlight.

"Sammy?" Dean skidded to a stop and dropped to his knees next to him while his eyes scanned the space with his light but there was no sign of what had taken him. "You alright? Are you hurt?"

"A little." Sam grasped Dean's arm and tried to catch his breath. "It's not bad…I don't think."

"Lemme look at ya'." Dean aimed the light at him while Sam pulled himself up to sit with Dean's arm. There was a bloody, malformed handprint across the bottom half of Sam's face and Dean knew then why he hadn't been able to yell; the creature had muffled him.

"Right arm…chest. Scratches on my neck." Sam gasped for breath and brought his left hand up to hover over a bloody spot on the chest of his shirt. The creature had grabbed him in a steely grip and dragged him into the hotel. Sam had tried to cry out when he felt claws digging into his right pectoral muscle and it had slapped that slick, bloody hand over his face to stop him. He shuddered slightly with the visceral memory of being held by a skinless monster. It stank and the smell had burned his eyes and nose. There had been something vaguely sulfuric about it and it had made it hard for him to focus on anything but the feel of the thing holding him, but Sam was sure it had been tall, tall enough to nearly keep his feet from the floor.

"Did you see it?" Dean pulled his brother's ruined shirt away from his chest and shone the light on the wounds. Four long claw marks crossed the right side of his chest like something had held on to him.

Sam shook his head. "No. Too dark. Crap," He groaned and curled over himself.

"Sammy?" Dean dropped a hand to the back of his neck and thought maybe his brother was starting to run a fever.

"I'm ok," Sam said quickly, though he didn't try to straighten himself. "Dizzy mostly…maybe debating throwing up on your shoes."

Dean gave a relieved smile. "So, you shot the thing and it dropped you and took off.

Sam shook his head again. "N…no. It dropped me and then I shot it." He remembered the rotted smell of its breath as its mouth had come down to his face, as sharp teeth had grazed the skin of his neck and then it had growled and dumped him to the ground. "Not even s-sure I hit it. Couldn' see a damn thing."

"Ok. I gotcha now. We're gonna get outta here." He put the light back on Sam and bent to see his face. Sam was pale and shaking and Dean didn't like that one bit. "Take a breath."

Sam nodded but didn't say anything. He felt weak over the whole of his body and he ached everywhere. It was making him dizzy. "Be better…in a minute." A feverish feeling was overtaking him and he couldn't help but feel like it was centered in his neck and moving out from there.

Dean frowned as he felt Sam's skin grow warmer under his hand. "Ok, that's it. Come on." He stood and shone his light through the room again, and Dean took an involuntary step back as it played over something too large for comfort and glistening red. "Shit!" He brought his gun up and aimed his light at the thing. "Sam!"

Sam rolled his head and startled badly at what he saw. The creature stood a good seven feet tall and it was gruesome; more gruesome than he'd even imagined. It was indeed skinless. Veins pulsed black all over its body, and its body was…disturbing. There was a vaguely man-like upper body with two obscenely long arms and a head with a wide mouth, but he had no legs. He looked as though he grew directly out of the misshapen horse beneath him, right out of its back, and the 'horse' was skinless as well with the veins pulsing black blood. Black eyes in the horse's head and the man's followed Dean's movements warily as his brother aimed at the thing.

Dean shook himself and stepped hastily around Sam, putting himself between his brother and the creature. "Holy crap, you are one ugly son'bitch," Dean said softly. "Any ideas what it is?"

"N…no," Sam said between heavy breaths. "Maybe…I dunno."

"Great." Dean rolled his shoulders as the thing took a step toward them. "Uh-uh." He fired twice into its head and it screamed. The sound ricocheted in the dark hall while Dean fired another round into the half-man's chest and then yet another into the horse's chest. The creature roared, staggered back, and then fled, thundering down the hall and out of the reach of Dean's flashlight. "Ok. Time to go."

Sam nodded and tried to stand but his body wasn't cooperating. "Dean."

"I've got you." Dean pulled Sam up with one arm, and once he had him weaving on his feet, he took his brother's arm and tipped him over his shoulder. "Sorry, buddy, but we need to get the hell out of here."

Sam groaned but couldn't argue. Walking was nearly beyond him at that point, let alone running. As Dean carried him down the stairs in a fast, bouncing stride through the dark, Sam wondered if Dean's face had looked that way all those years ago when he'd carried an infant Sam away from his burning nursery. He'd caught a glimpse in the flashlight's beam before Dean picked him up, and he wondered if his big brother's face had held that same mixture of fear and determination, if Dean's eyes had screamed then, as they had now, that death wasn't allowed to have his little brother.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everybody got their anti-nausea meds? Good. Good. :P read on.

**Chapter 4**

Dean staggered back out into the cold night air of the desert with Sam hanging limply over his shoulder. He turned to look back and up at the hotel when he heard the muffled sound of the creature's scream of anger and moved quickly away. He didn't spare a glance for the van and rolled his eyes when his little brother tugged at the back of his jacket.

"Dean…Joe…can't leave him," Sam panted out weakly.

"He left you," Dean retorted fiercely but he went to the van anyway and banged on the side door. "Hey! Asshole!" There was no response and Dean snarled. He hitched Sam higher on his shoulder and pulled the door open. "Come on, dammit!" He aimed his flashlight into the van and took a step back in shock. The interior of the van was painted in sprays of blood, and Joe lay on his back on the floor. His sightless eyes, still wide in terror, stared up at Dean. The man's chest and entire abdomen had been torn out.

"Dean?" Sam didn't understand why Dean had gone so quiet or why he couldn't hear Joe's fearful ramblings. "What is it?"

Dean slid the door shut and started down the block toward where he'd left the car. "Too late," he whispered. "Sorry, Sammy." Joe's death bothered him, and if Sam weren't doing a good impersonation of a self-warming sack of potatoes, he'd have taken the time to investigate. He couldn't figure out how the creature had enough time between when it dumped Sam and when it showed back up for Dean to shoot it. Unless the thing could teleport, it wasn't the only one in the building.

"Almost there," Dean told Sam as they reached the alley where he'd parked the Impala. He was breathing heavily under Sam's weight and kept turning back to the hotel to make sure the ugly thing wasn't following them. He lowered Sam off his shoulder once they reached the Impala and leaned him against the side. "In you go."

"No." Sam shook his head and pawed weakly at Dean's jacket. He had to struggle to get his eyes open. "No…no time." Whatever the creature had gotten into him, it was working quickly and Sam could feel his body beginning to fail. "Holy…holy water."

Dean frowned. "You sure?"

Sam nodded and only Dean's grip on his shoulders kept him from sliding to the ground. "Smelled…uh, sulfur when…when it was dragging me."

"Dammit," Dean cursed. He pulled open the passenger door and guided Sam in to sit. "Stay put." He went to the trunk with another muttered curse. Sulfur generally meant some flavor of demonic nasty, which meant the holy water was going to feel like battery acid to his brother when he poured it on him.

Sam groaned softly and found enough energy to shrug his jacket off onto the bench seat. It was all the energy he had, though, and he slumped against the back of the seat, letting his head drop forward while his head swam with dizziness and his stomach cramped painfully. The unnatural heat of the fever made his whole body feel like it was weighted down.

"Hey." Dean took Sam's head in his hands and lifted it up so he could get a look at him in the light from the inside of the car. "How you doin'?" He watched Sam's eyes blink sluggishly and sighed. "Not so good. Ok, this is gonna suck. I'm sorry." Dean meant it, too. Even having no choice about it, knowing the pain he was about to inflict on his baby brother made him hate himself a little bit.

"Just do it," Sam muttered through clenched teeth, dreading what was coming, but knowing it was necessary. Dean turned Sam's head away and found deep scratches on the side of his throat. They cut through the bruising there and made him growl angrily. It looked like the creature had almost taken a bite out of him. He unscrewed the cap on the bottle of holy water and braced his free hand against Sam's head to keep him from jerking away. Dean turned the bottle and poured out a steady stream onto the wounds.

Sam's eyes shot open on a sharp cry of pain. The blessed water felt like it was boiling into his flesh, searing into him as it went. It was no comfort that he'd been right. In fact, he really wished he'd been wrong. He gritted his teeth and fought the urge to jerk away from his brother until the burning finally stopped and he sagged in relief.

"Ok, ok." Dean pulled some gauze from the medical kit he'd brought from the trunk and pressed it over the scratches now that the water was running clear without hissing and bubbling. He knelt in the door and tipped Sam's face up to his again. "I've gotta do the other ones, buddy. You good?"

Sam nodded. His vision did seem slightly clearer. "Yeah," he said hoarsely and braced himself while Dean pulled his torn shirts away from his upper chest.

"Here we go." Dean grimaced in sympathy and poured the holy water again. It killed him to have to watch Sam writhe and made him proud every time the kid bit off a scream and didn't pull away. Once the bubbling stopped, Dean went quickly to Sam's arm and repeated the process, not wanting to draw out the suffering any longer than he had to. It didn't surprise him when Sam lost consciousness before he was finished. He only wished Sam could have passed out a hell of a lot sooner. Dean put hasty bandages over the remaining wounds and wrangled Sam's legs into the car. He shut the door and went around to the driver's side.

"Ok, little brother. We are outta here for now." Dean pulled the Impala back out onto the street and stopped to look at the black outline of the hotel against the sky. He knew there were still two people in there somewhere - a cop and that Ellie chick the man at the hospital had called for, but in his mind, Sam's safety took precedence over all. He said a silent apology to them, almost sure they were already long dead, and pulled away down the road back toward Vegas.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean came out of the shower and found Sam where he'd left him, curled up on his bed, looking smaller than his six-foot-four frame should allow under the ugly red and orange quilts. It had been a rough night for them both with Sam waking loudly periodically. The second time his little brother had shouted himself awake, yelling about something coming for him in the dark, Dean had turned the lights back on and Sam had slept slightly easier after that. He ran his hands through his damp hair a couple times and pulled on a clean shirt before going to his brother's bed.

"Sam." Dean shook his shoulder gently under the blanket. "Rise and shine, little brother."

Sam groaned and rolled his head up to look blearily at his brother. "Time's it?"

Dean snorted. "About ten in the morning. How do you feel?"

"Like roadkill," Sam said ruefully. He uncurled slightly and wished he hadn't rolled onto his right side. His chest and arm were protesting the movement.

"I'm gonna go grab some coffee and donuts," Dean told him and picked up his jacket. "Why don't you get showered and then see if you can find our mystery monster."

Sam nodded and started the painful process of sitting up. "I can do that." He swung his feet to the floor and slumped over his knees for a moment. "Think I even know where to look."

Dean watched him worriedly and put a hand out to his neck expecting to feel the fever still raging, but Sam was cool. He smirked and shrugged when Sam knocked his hand away. "Go shower. You stink."

"Shuddup," Sam said with irritation while Dean chuckled and left the room. He stood and swayed for a moment. "Crap." Sam walked unsteadily to the bathroom and managed to get himself in the shower and more or less clean before the first cramp doubled him over. He gasped and slapped a hand out to the tiled wall to stay standing. He hastily turned off the water and got out, moving gingerly, and bit off a short cry when the pain came again.

"What…" Sam waited until the pain eased and dried off. It was beginning to worry him as he went back into the room and pulled on his shorts and a pair of jeans. He was reaching for a shirt when it struck him again in earnest and Sam went to his knees on the orange carpet with a strangled cry. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and tried to breathe through it. "Crap. Holy crap." He looked around and saw his cell phone on the nightstand and it took almost more than he had to reach up and grab it. It slid off onto the floor and he fumbled it into his hand, dialing his brother. "Dean," he gasped.

"Sammy?" Dean froze in the act of climbing back in the Impala with their coffees; something in Sam's voice scared him. "What's going on?"

"Dean," Sam tried again and sucked in a harsh breath. "Something's wrong."

"Sam? Ok, I'll be there in five. You hang on!" Dean got behind the wheel and screeched back out onto the road. He made it back to the hotel in under four and threw himself from the car toward their motel room. He slammed open the door. "Sam?" Dean turned with the sound of a bitten off sob and found his brother on the floor between the beds, hunched over himself and in obvious pain. "Shit! Talk to me, buddy." He went to him and knelt next to Sam.

Sam shook his head and tried to get a breath past the pain and the fear that was now clawing at him. "S…stomach. Something's…I don't know!"

"Easy! Take it easy." Dean put an arm around his brother's bare shoulders. "Let's get you up." He pulled and his worry deepened when Sam wouldn't, or couldn't, uncurl from around his stomach. Dean managed to get him sitting on the side of the bed and tried to get a look at him. "What is it?"

"There's…" Sam's breath hitched at a fresh wave of pain and he let Dean push him down to the bed. "Stomach."

"Ok." Dean tried to keep his voice calm for his brother's sake while he frowned and tugged Sam's arms away from his stomach. "Were you hurt last night? I didn't see any blood on your stomach, dude. Knock it off." He held Sam's hands against his chest and looked down at his stomach. Dean reared back a step in surprise, letting his brother's arms go when he saw it - something moved beneath the trembling muscles of his brother's belly. "Son of a bitch!"

"Feel it…I can feel it!" Sam gasped and stared down at himself while something shifted inside him and his abdominal muscles rippled in reaction. He was frantic and terrified, and his mind started putting two and two together. He held up his left hand and looked at the puncture wound there. "Dean."

"What?" Dean shook off his paralysis and bent over his brother, frowning when he held up his hand.

"Got in here." Sam nodded to himself and then cried out, curling around his stomach. "The pain…it was moving…hand to…to shoulder and…and down. Oh, God!"

"Breathe, Sammy!" Dean's hand hovered over his brother's stomach in indecision. "I don't know what to do, man. Hospital?"

Sam shook his head furiously and grabbed hold of Dean's arm with one hand. "Knife."

It took Dean a second to process what Sam meant and recover enough to respond. "What? No way! I am NOT cutting into you!" Dean protested vehemently, but Sam held him firm.

"Have to!" Sam squeezed his eyes closed and knew he was holding Dean's arm in a painfully tight grip, but his brother said nothing. "Please, Dean!" He got his eyes open and looked up at him. "Think I…think I know what it is. There's no time for a hospital! Dean you have to."

"Dammit!" Dean watched the pained expression on Sam's face and nodded finally. "Alright. Ok. I can do this. Just hang on." He reluctantly pulled his arm free of Sam's and went to the first aid kit while Sam's strained breaths and pained grunts filled the room. "Talk to me, buddy. What is it? What'd your geek brain figure out?"

Sam wanted to smile at his brother but he couldn't. He put his hands over his stomach and yanked them away again when he felt the thing move beneath his skin. "Hy…hydrus…I think." The sensation of something squirming around his insides was sickening, and he had to ruthlessly fight the sudden need to vomit. It wouldn't do any good. "It's a…serpent…sort of a snake. Oh, God, Dean!"

The agony now filling Sam's voice made Dean's heart clench in with fear and a desperate desire to ease his suffering. He sat next to his brother and put a hand to his shoulder to try and stop him clawing at his own stomach. "Sam, keep it together!" He pulled the antiseptic and a small knife from the medical kit and scowled. "Tell me why we can't let a hospital do this?"

"Eating!" Sam gasped and clamped a hand on his brother's arm again. "No time! It's trying to eat its way out!"

Dean's jaw dropped in horror and it steeled his resolve. There was no other choice – it truly was all on him, and he'd be damned if he'd let Sam die because of his own fear of hurting his brother further. He nodded and poured the antiseptic liberally over his brother's stomach. He set it aside and flattened a hand on Sam's chest to try and still him. "Try not to move." He could see the thing moving under Sam's skin and Dean put the point of the blade above it. "You want something to bite down on? This is gonna hurt like hell."

Sam shook his head and kept his grip on Dean's arm. "Hurry. Dean, please!" He looked down at his stomach and then dropped his head back to the pillow, swallowing another pained cry. "Don't let it bite you."

"Right." Dean took a deep breath to try to steady himself, gritted his teeth, and pushed the knife into Sam's flesh. He didn't know how deep to cut or where not to cut, and it was an effort to keep his hand from shaking as he pushed the blade in and then dragged it slowly down an inch.

Sam sobbed in ragged breaths. He knew Dean was going to have an imprint of his hand on his arm, but it was the only thing keeping him anchored when he felt the knife cutting into him. His body wanted to buck, and Sam's head thrashed on the pillow as he fought the urge. Tears escaped to trail from his eyes over his temples and he couldn't find it in himself to care.

"Almost, Sammy. Almost." Dean's voice was a tight whisper of control. He tossed the knife to the bed and used his hands to try and 'trap' the creature between them. He pushed while blood bubbled up from the wound he'd made and warmed his fingers. Sam's hold on his left arm was hampering his movement, but he didn't have the heart to tell the kid to let go. He grimaced in sympathy when Sam shouted his agony as the thing…the hydrus…thrashed inside him, trying to escape.

"Come on you son of a bitch," Dean growled and pushed harder on Sam's stomach, squeezing the thing between his hands. He could feel it moving and then a dark head, glistening with Sam's blood, emerged from the wound. He snapped a hand out and grabbed it, digging his nails in to hold the slick body in his bloody grip.

Sam howled as the serpent's body rolled wildly inside him and when Dean began to pull on it, he lost his fight with consciousness and escaped into the dark.

"Sammy?" Dean yelled fearfully when his brother suddenly went limp and his hand fell away to the bed with a thump. With the creature still thrashing around inside Sam, it was impossible for Dean to see whether or not he was still breathing, and he couldn't risk letting go of the thing with one hand to check for a pulse. "Shit!" Dean used both hands to hold the serpent and pulled, slowly but inexorably dragging it from his brother's body. The tail came out and whipped up, splattering blood over him and Sam both before it wrapped itself around Dean's forearm. "No, you don't, you little bastard!" He held tightly to the head while it hissed and snapped rows of tiny, sharp teeth at him. It looked more like the mouth of an alligator than a snake, missing the customary fangs. He reached over Sam for the knife and then took the thing into the bathroom.

Dean slapped the serpent's body onto the counter and winced when it coiled more tightly around his arm, sensing its impending death. He slid the knife between the hydrus' neck and his hand and sliced cleanly through into the formica of the counter. The tail pulsed once around his arm in reaction and then fell away into the sink. Dean gasped out a breath and slumped, still keeping his grip on it.

"Shit," he groaned and dropped the head into the sink with the body. Dean went quickly out to the duffel and grabbed the salt and the tin of lighter fluid. He spared a worried glance for Sam, but he wanted the damn thing dead first. Dean's jaw fell open when he looked into the sink and saw that the hydrus' head was slowly shifting closer to its disconnected body.

"Oh, HELL no," Dean growled. He picked up the knife again and speared it through the snake's head and into the porcelain of the sink. He dumped salt over both pieces of the creature and then doused it with lighter fluid while the head wriggled. Dean pulled his Zippo from his pocket and lit it with a satisfied smile as he set it ablaze and then left it to burn. He pulled the bathroom door closed and went to his brother.

"Sammy." Dean sat beside him and palmed the side of Sam's face. He was chilled and covered in sweat under Dean's hand, but he could see his brother's pulse beating too fast in his bruised and scratched throat. "Ok, buddy. No bullshit. We're going to a hospital." Dean turned and used some gauze to wipe some of the blood away from the wound in Sam's upper abdomen. He taped a hasty bandage over the cut he'd made and then turned back to his face. "Sam." Dean rubbed his knuckles into his sternum with a grimace for the spatters of blood and smiled with reassurance when Sam's eyes fluttered open. They were glassy and unfocused but slowly tracked to him.

"Dean?" Sam asked hoarsely. He moaned and looked down at himself, eyes widening when he took in the blood and the bandage.

"Hey, it's ok. It's gone." Dean wanted to let him sleep, but a trip to a clinic was more important. He had no way of knowing what damage the creature had already done inside his brother. "It's burning in the sink as we speak."

"In the…" Sam frowned and looked at the closed bathroom door. "The sink?"

Dean chuckled softly. "I was kind of in a hurry. Speaking of, come on. Up."

"N…no," Sam protested when his brother took his arms and hauled him up so he was sitting.

"Yes." Dean grabbed his towel from his shower earlier and wet it with a bottle of water. "You've got a date with a clinic. Hold still."

Sam shook his head and shivered while Dean began wiping blood from his chest and stomach. "Don't need it."

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said forcefully. "I just had to cut a hole in you to keep a hungry snake from eating its way out of you. You're going. Don't fight me on this."

Sam wanted to argue that he would be fine, that he just wanted to sleep, but it was his father's voice that won out in the end. 'Don't screw with gut injuries', John had drilled into them and had related more than one horror story from his time in the marines of guys who had suffered and died days later from the smallest seeming wound in their stomachs. "Ok."

"Good," Dean smiled again and swiped a few spots of blood from Sam's too-pale face. He got up and dug a flannel from Sam's bag and brought it over. "You get this on yourself?"

Sam nodded wearily and took the shirt. "T-shirt?"

Dean shook his head. "They're just gonna make you take it off. This is easier," he said, gesturing to the button down shirt. He started packing the room up quickly while Sam argued with his fingers to make them work with the buttons.

"That's…this is why it let me go," Sam said softly while he buttoned his shirt. "The thing in the motel. It must have…I dunno…sensed it, or maybe smelled it. The hydrus eats its way out of its victims' guts." He let his arms drop with the most of the buttons done and slumped. "It didn't want to die like that."

"Hey." Dean went to him and squeezed the side of his neck comfortingly. "You're gonna be fine. It's dead. Come on. Up."

Sam stood shakily with Dean holding on to him. "Laptop. I can research while they're poking at me." He frowned. "The hydrus narrows it down. I think I can figure out what it is with that."

Dean left him standing on his own and went to the table. He shoved the laptop into its bag and grabbed up their duffels along with it. "I think maybe that's what happened to Joe. The guy in the van?" He shook his head as he went to the door. "It looked like he exploded from the inside or something."

Sam shuddered and wondered how close he'd come to the same fate. He pressed a hand lightly over his stomach. It hit him suddenly, the memory of that thing worming around inside him, feeling Dean pulling it out of his stomach and the sensation of it rubbing parts of him that should never be touched…Sam gagged and dropped to his knees.

"Shit," Dean said with feeling when he came back into the room and found Sam puking his guts up on the carpet. "You're ok. Just take a breath." He put a hand to the back of his neck and steadied Sam when the gagging finally eased and he slumped back against the side of the bed.

"Sorry," Sam said breathlessly and wiped a hand over his mouth. "Just caught up with me all of a sudden."

"Don't worry about it," Dean slid his arm under his brother's shoulder and pulled him back up to his feet with a smirk. "Definitely not getting the deposit back on this place. They're gonna be damn irritated with Calvin Wrightstaff."

Sam chuckled weakly and started for the door. "Let's go, Calvin, before I change my mind about the hospital."

Dean walked him out to the Impala with a snort. "You say that like you actually have a choice."

Sam shot a bitch-face at his brother and slid into the passenger seat with a groan. His stomach and chest burned with pain, but Dean didn't need to know that just yet. They were going to a hospital anyway; he'd find out soon enough. Sam watched his brother walk in front of the car and a part of him suffered wondering if Ellie had been abandoned to some horrible death because of him…because he'd allowed himself to be infected with the hydrus.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Dean paced in the waiting room with a furious expression on his face that had driven away two nurses before they reached him. He'd taken Sam to a large clinic, preferring to avoid the hospital they'd been to the night before. He didn't want to risk someone recognizing them. The doctor had kicked Dean out of the room and enforced it with a security guard when Dean had argued loudly to stay with his brother. Sam had finally waved him off with an amused smile and Dean had gone, but he didn't damn well like it.

"Mr. Brenna."

Dean turned with the sound of the name on their fake insurance and nodded warily. It was the doctor who'd kicked him out of the room. "Where is my brother and is he alright?"

Doctor Simons smiled in spite of the dangerous look on Dean Brenna's face. He was used to dealing with frightened family members, and fear frequently manifested in aggression. "Sam is going to be fine. If you'll follow me, I'll take you to him."

"About damn time," Dean growled and fell into step beside the doctor. "So how is he really?"

"There are definite signs of internal trauma, but it's mild. You said he was attacked in an alley?" the doctor asked with a brow raised. Sam's injuries were, more or less, consistent with a brutal beating, but some things didn't quite add up - the already healing bruises around his throat for one

Dean nodded. It was the best story he could think of to fit Sam's injuries that didn't involve a skinless monster and a gut-eating snake, which he figured would only get him a room of his own in the psychiatric wing on a 72-hour hold and a cop waiting to arrest him for assaulting his brother. "Big guys. They roughed him up before I got there and, you know, stabbed him. Almost choked him out." He shrugged.

Dr. Simons nodded. "Well, the stab wound is shallow and didn't do any real damage, nor the scratches on his chest and arm. I've sent off some blood tests since it looks like someone actually bit his neck." He shook his head. "Whoever it was has unusually sharp teeth." The doctor looked at Dean, but the brother made no sign of explaining further and Simons sighed. "There aren't any signs of bruising yet around his torso, which is odd, but the MRI showed quite a bit of internal bruising to some of his organs. He's going to be sore for quite a while." He stopped outside the door to a room and met Dean's eyes with a steady gaze. "He needs to take it easy for a couple of weeks or some of those bruises could become tears, and you'll be trying to get him back here before he bleeds out internally. Understand?"

Dean's eyes widened and he nodded, knowing that 'taking it easy' wasn't in their immediate future until the thing in the hotel was dead.

"You understand he's very lucky he doesn't need surgery at this point. Also…" and the doctor rolled his eyes with a laugh. "…you might want to consider getting your brother some help for his addiction to his laptop. He's been on that thing since we brought him back from the MRI, painkillers and all."

Dean smiled, relieved, and nodded. "Yeah, I'll, uh…I'll talk to him. Thanks." He went past the doctor and pushed open the door to the room. Sam lay in a bed with his computer propped in his lap. The blue glow from the screen only emphasized how pale his little brother was. Leads ran from under the hospital scrubs they'd put him in, and Sam poked at the nasal cannula under his nose while Dean watched.

"Dean," Sam said when he looked up and saw his brother. "Can we go now?"

Dean rolled his eyes and dropped into the chair next to his bed. "Not yet. The doc explain it to you?" He watched Sam's face and saw the moment he decided to try and hide the seriousness of his injuries. He snorted. "Shut up," Dean said as Sam opened his mouth. "He already told me, so there's no point tryin' to play it off."

Sam stared and then sighed, settling back into the pillows. "Ok, fine; but I'm good to finish this job." He turned the laptop to face his brother and tapped the screen. "I found it." He shifted slightly, trying to move so his abdomen didn't ache so much. "I followed the hydrus."

Dean leaned forward to look at the picture on the screen and grimaced. "Not any prettier in a picture." It was the same creature they'd seen in the Goldfield, hideous and skinless.

"It's called a nukelavee." Sam turned the laptop back to him and scrolled down the page. "They're Orcadian or maybe Norse but they're bad news, big time. That's why the hydrus was there. They follow creatures of pure evil like the nukelavee. They feed on it…the evil…so they…they eat into other creatures and wait for the nukelavee to feed and get into it that way. Then they basically pre-digest its insides, and…it's messy when they chew their way out."

"Holy crap, it's a friggin Alien chest-burster…well…gut-burster." Dean shook his head, thinking of Joe's corpse in the van with his insides burst all over the interior and leaned back in the chair. "That is some messed up shit, dude." It chilled him to the bone knowing that Sam had nearly gone that way.

"Yeah." Sam shivered and closed the laptop. "We need to take the head. The…the humanoid head, that is…then the remains have to be doused in holy water and the head salted and burned separately." He lay back in the bed as his energy left him. "The lore's not clear exactly, but, uh, I don't think the body actually dies until the head's burned."

"Awesome." Dean leaned forward and pulled the laptop away from his fading brother. "Get some sleep. I don't think you're getting out of here for at least another hour. The doc didn't quite buy my story."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes. He raised his arm with a line running to an IV stand beside the bed. "He's got me on some serious antibiotics, and I think I'm starting to feel the painkillers now." He smiled a little goofily as the medication began to ease the ache and burn in his stomach. "Yep. There they are."

Dean chuckled and got comfortable. Part of him wanted to rush back to the hotel on his own and find and kill the thing but he couldn't leave Sam, and he knew damn well he needed backup, even if all he let Sam do was hold the flashlight. He smirked. That conversation was going to be fun. He waited until the pain medication put Sam well and truly under and then moved to sit on the side of the bed. Dean needed to see for himself.

He pulled the thin blanket down Sam's chest and tugged up the scrub top. Dean peeled the bandages back from his stomach gently and bit his bottom lip. There were seven new stitches closing the cut Dean had made. It was beginning to bruise around it, no doubt from his struggle to pull the hydrus out. "I'm sorry, Sammy," Dean said softly. He replaced the bandages and checked the other wounds. The claw marks on his chest and shoulder were now expertly cleaned and covered, and even the bite on Sam's neck looked less disturbing.

"He really will be alright," Dr. Simons said from the door after watching Dean methodically – and almost professionally - check his little brother's injuries for a minute. He smiled when Dean jerked in surprise. "Are you sure you've told me everything about how he was injured?"

Dean pulled Sam's top back down and the blanket back up to his chin and nodded. "Nothing much else to tell, doc."

"Uh huh." Dr. Simons moved into the room to the opposite side of the bed and held up a manila folder. "You see, I wanted to make sure Sam's left kidney wasn't in danger of tearing. Some of the most severe internal bruising is there, so I had the MRI images enlarged, and…" he looked at the folder and then raised a questioning brow to Dean. "If I didn't know better, I'd say the injury to his kidney looks like…well…very small teeth marks." He tossed the folder to the foot of the bed and crossed his arms. "So I checked the rest of the scans and there are similar marks on the bones of his left arm, inside his shoulder and his left lung. I don't suppose you can tell me why it looks like something tried to eat your little brother from the inside out?"

Dean blinked and then shook his head slowly. "That would be crazy, wouldn't it?"

"Impossible even." The doctor nodded and easily saw the wariness on Dean's face. "Dean…" Simons shook his head and looked down at Sam's pale face for a moment. He glanced back up at Dean and sighed. "Never mind." He went to the door and stopped, not looking back. "For future reference, a half inch lower and to the left is a safer place to…be stabbed like that. Your brother's very lucky the person who cut him didn't press just a little harder or he might have perforated Sam's liver."

Dean shivered at that while the doctor left. The intimation was clear; Dean had nearly killed his brother trying to save him, though the doctor had no idea what from. "Shit," Dean whispered and laid a hand on Sam's shoulder to calm himself. "Starting to think I need to study a little human anatomy, dude."

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam sat on the edge of his hospital bed and was trying to decide if standing was actually a good idea or not. It had been six hours since Dean had brought him in. The sun was starting to get low in the sky, shining orange through the window behind him and warming his bare back. He'd managed to get his jeans on while Dean left to sign him out, but his shirt was still sitting next to him. His left shoulder had refused to obey him and lift his arm over his head.

"Sam."

Sam looked up when his doctor walked in and gave a wan smile. "Hey, doc."

"You need to stay here at least another day." Dr. Simons frowned as he walked over to the bed and picked up Sam's t-shirt to hold it in front of him. "You can't even get your own shirt on yet, and from the look of you, I'd say you're afraid to stand up without help right now. How am I doing?"

Sam blew out a breath and rolled his eyes. "Disturbingly accurate, but it doesn't change anything. We have to go."

Dr. Simons resisted the urge to try and shake some sense into the boy. Sam's eyes were still a little glassy under the shaggy, dark hair hanging in his face. "You haven't been any more forthcoming than your brother in regards to what happened to you. It's very frustrating."

"Dr. Simons, it's…" Sam ran his right hand through his hair and sighed. "I…you wouldn't believe it. Please don't ask."

"I know." Simons raised his hands in surrender. "I understand….well, no, I really don't, but I get the impression that I'm happier that way." He smiled ruefully and straightened out Sam's shirt. He pulled the sleeve up Sam's left arm for him and then tugged it over his head, chuckling at the disgusted expression Sam was giving him, and then grew serious again. "I do know that there are sometimes strange…things out there in the desert. I treated a man once…" He looked at Sam again and shook his head slightly, and Sam recognized the vague look of confusion in his eyes at the memory. He had seen it countless times on the faces of the people they routinely helped when they knew SOMETHING out of the ordinary was going on, but before they became truly aware of just how weird things could really get. Sam had no doubt at that moment that he was not the first hunter the doctor had treated without really knowing what it was he was dealing with. With Sam's strange case now, it was possible he was starting to draw some seemingly impossible connections.

The doctor blinked as if clearing his mind of the strange memory. "Never mind. It doesn't matter. But you DO need to be careful for a couple weeks, Sam. On this I am very serious." He let Sam get his shirt on the rest of the way and gave him a stern look. "If you're…attacked again…" He rolled his eyes. "…you have a kidney and a lung that could rupture, one or both, and you'll end up right back here a hell of a lot worse off."

"I understand." Sam pulled his shirt down his chest and met the man's concerned eyes. "We'll be careful. I promise."

"Damn right, you will," Dean said severely as he pushed a wheelchair into the room in time to hear the end of the exchange. "He's not going to be doing anything more strenuous than lifting a cup of coffee for a while, and don't give me that bitch-face. It ain't gonna work. Come on, Ms. Daisy." Dean patted the wheelchair with a grin.

Dr. Simons laughed and took Sam's right arm to steady him while he slid his feet to the floor. He found himself holding more of Sam's weight than he'd expected as the boy paled even further and sagged against him. "I really wish you'd reconsider and stay another day, but if you insist on leaving, PLEASE, take it easy, Sam. Easy. Here we go."

Dean slapped the lock on the wheels and then took hold of his brother's shoulder, helping to turn him and guide him down slowly into the chair. "Sam…"

"I'm ok," Sam said quickly and made an effort to get his head back up. "Really. I can do this."

"Here." Dr. Simons pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it to Dean. "Here are instructions on taking care of him, prescriptions he absolutely needs for antibiotics and painkillers, and my personal cell number in case something happens." He smiled at the surprised look both men gave him. "I can't imagine why, but I get the impression you boys may need my help again."

"That's…" Dean smiled in surprise, unused to seeing honest concern on a doctor's face. "Thanks, doc, for everything. We owe you."

"Make sure I don't see Sam again and we'll call it even." Doctor Simons rested a hand briefly on Sam's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Sam."

"Thank you." Sam smiled warmly while Dean rolled him away. He waited until they were well down the hall and then turned to see his brother behind him. "We're going back tonight and you're not leaving me behind."

"Never even occurred to me," Dean said easily, though it seriously had. "I don't wanna face the knucklehead alone."

Sam snorted softly. "Nukelavee."

"That's what I said." Dean smiled. He was going to make damn sure Sam didn't end up in harm's way again.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Sam walked slowly up the sidewalk toward the Goldfield hotel beside his brother. The van, truck, and police car were still there, now covered in a layer of sand as though the desert were laying claim to them. "Can't believe no one's come looking for a missing police officer yet."

Dean nodded and looked up and down the street while he hefted the weapons bag higher on his shoulder. The sun was almost set behind the mountains and the last rays of light were shining on the top floors of the hotel. "Must not have anyone to miss him at home, poor sucker. But still…you'd think his precinct would be looking for him."

Sam wrinkled his nose as they neared the van and the desert breeze blew the scent of rotting flesh toward them. Joe's body had been in there through an entire day of blistering sun. He didn't envy whoever had to clean the poor guy up.

Dean had a wary eye on his brother. They'd had a hell of a yelling match at the motel before they'd left, after which Sam had grudgingly agreed to stay behind Dean at all times and not put himself in harm's way, period. It was too dangerous given the condition he was in. He rolled his eyes. He didn't believe Sam for one second that he would actually hang back when it came to a fight. He'd just have to make sure Sam didn't have a chance to get hurt again.

"You sure about this?" Dean asked. Even in the fading light, it wasn't hard to see that Sam was moving stiffly. His eyes were squinted in a way that said 'pain,' and he held his left arm across his waist.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Really." He was exhausted. His stomach, chest, and shoulder ached enough that he wished he'd given in and taken the painkillers Dean had offered before they left, but he wanted to be clear-headed. No matter what his big brother thought, he was going to need Sam to finish this job. The nukelavee wasn't your garden variety creature. It was vicious, even more vicious than the lore had made it out to be, and there was the very clear danger of another hydrus making its way into one of them. Dean had described what Joe looked like in the van and Sam knew it had been the serpent that killed him. If there were two, there could be more, and it took only a second of inattention to end up with one of them inside you, as he well knew.

"Well, you look like hammered crap, little brother," Dean told him with a smirk he didn't really feel. "Stay behind me and don't pull any 'hero' crap in there. Seriously…you heard the doc. You get hit again, you could bleed out before I can even get you back to town." He glared at Sam a moment longer to make his point and then went up to the entrance to the hotel and pulled the door open. "Ready?"

Sam nodded, drew his gun and flashlight and followed his brother inside. "Third floor?"

"Good a place as any to start since that's where it was dragging you," Dean said quietly and made for the stairs. He was halfway up when he heard his brother stop behind him. "Sammy?"

"Dammit. Dean? You smell that?" Sam turned and went back to the bottom of the stairs with the smell of rotting flesh once more filling his nose. He sniffed and followed the odor past the stairs and toward the back of the lobby. "It's worse here."

"Wait up, dammit!" Dean snarled and jogged back down the stairs, running to catch up his brother. "What did I say?"

Sam turned a lopsided smile to him. "Must have hit my head too. I forgot."

"Get behind me." Dean didn't smile. He didn't think it was funny. He pulled Sam's hand off the door handle and pushed in front of him before something big and ugly came out the door at him. "Don't even start with me or I will carry you back to the car and lock your ass in the trunk."

Sam glared but kept his mouth shut. He understood where Dean's anger was coming from. He remembered the fear and the anger that had driven him when a wendigo had taken his big brother from under his nose. It didn't make it any easier to take now, though. He sighed and raised his gun to cover his brother. "Ok."

Dean turned the knob and shoved the door open with the beam from Sam's flashlight streaming over his shoulder. The smell rolled out from the door to gag them both, and Dean threw his left arm over his nose and mouth while he coughed. "Holy crap." He coughed again and shook his head. "Stay here."

Sam nodded with his eyes watering and turned to watch the lobby, making sure nothing could sneak up on them and fighting the urge to cough. He had a feeling it wouldn't be a good idea just then.

Dean eased into the pitch-black room with his flashlight and played it across maroon walls and down to the floor. He realized with a start that his feet were crunching through aging carpeting coated in dried blood. "Yech." He swallowed hard, refusing to gag again, and nearly lost the fight when he found the body…or the pieces of one. The nukelavee had obviously been feeding off the corpse. Chunks had been bitten out from the chest and legs, and one whole arm was missing. He shone his light along the carnage and narrowed his eyes when something glinted. Dean moved closer and knelt and then blew out a breath. It was a policeman's badge. "Sorry, buddy." His only consolation was that the man looked and smelled to have been dead before they even arrived. This person's death, at least, wasn't on them.

"Dean?" Sam called and then coughed. He bent over his stomach and braced his left arm over his chest as it sent licks of pain through him. "Crap."

"Found the cop," Dean said as he came out and pulled the door shut behind him. "No sign of the girl yet. Hey, take it easy, Sammy." He grabbed his arm in concern while Sam wheezed and coughed.

Sam waved his good arm and got his breathing back under control. He straightened carefully and gave Dean a wan smile. "Sorry. I'm good. The smell just got to me is all."

"Come on." Dean moved away without stating the obvious, that Sam was paler now after the coughing fit than he had been when they came in or that he was holding himself even more stiffly than before. He started up the stairs again with Sam behind him and purposefully kept his pace slower.

Sam had to brace his sore left arm over his aching gut as they climbed and bit his lip to keep his breathing somewhat normal. In the unnatural stillness of the hotel, he'd have no chance of Dean not hearing how much difficulty he was having.

Dean lowered the weapons back for his shoulder on the second floor landing and pulled out two machete sheathes. "Here."

Sam took his and unbuckled his belt, looping it quickly through. "At least we know bullets hurt it even if they don't kill it. I think we should…" Sam's voice was drowned out by a feminine scream echoing through the building. "Oh, God! Ellie?"

"She's still alive?" Dean asked in surprise. "Come on! That came from upstairs."

Sam's own discomfort was forgotten in the need to save this woman. He pounded after Dean to the next flight of stairs and urged his abused body to go faster. "Gotta find her, Dean."

"We will. We're not losing her now," Dean said grimly. The fact that she'd been alive for the last two days and was apparently trapped in the hotel the entire time sent guilt to roil in his stomach. They could have saved her sooner if he'd just been paying better attention and not let his little brother get so hurt. "I'm not losing this one."

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Dean reached the top of the stairs on the third floor in a rush and shone his light quickly to either side. "Hello?" he called and looked back when he heard Sam behind him. Dean could hear his heavier than normal breathing and made himself put the concern away for now. He'd made the decision to have Sam with him and that meant trusting his brother when he said he could handle it. "You hear anything?"

Sam leaned heavily on the banister at the top of the stairs and listened. "No. Nothing. Ellie?" Sam shouted her name, wincing when it echoed through the empty hall. "Ellie, we're here to help you!" There was a muffled roar, and then Ellie's voice screamed out again through the halls. "Damn, that's upstairs." Sam headed for the next flight of stairs and rolled his eyes as Dean easily outpaced him and took the lead. His brother was obviously taking his order to 'stay behind me' seriously. He pushed himself to stay with Dean and wished he'd been able to find a blueprint for the hotel at the library or online. It might have made searching it or knowing where to look easier.

Dean slowed a step so Sam could catch up and then stopped just before the top of the stairs on the fourth floor. Rather than a hall like the floors below, there was a wide room with a vaulted ceiling ahead of them and three sets of double doors, one across from them and one to either side. The floor in the center of the room was buckled and precarious looking. The skylight directly above it was long since broken and empty of glass, leaving the elements to sneak in. Sand coated everything and had even blown in small drifts here and there.

"Dean." Sam nodded and pointed his flashlight. The tracks of small-footed shoes led from the stairs to the doors directly across from them. "Ellie."

Dean moved wide around the buckling portion of the floor for the far doors and waved at Sam to come with him. The ageing wood creaked and groaned beneath them as they passed and he could hear the sound of sand sifting through to a room somewhere below.

Sam moved closer to the wall, not trusting the floor, and could almost feel it readying to shift under him. He brought his gun up as Dean reached the door and took a few steps further out to have a clear shot into whatever room lay beyond.

"Ready," Dean whispered. He took hold of the handle and whipped the door open…or tried to. It caught on the warped floor boards beneath the sand and ground to a halt less than a foot open. "Dammit!" He moved and put all his weight into the door. Dean looked up as the beam of Sam's flashlight went over his head into the darkness. His eyes widened in surprise to find the nukelavee a scant six feet away and both sets of eyes - the man and the horse's - glared out at him. "Oh, crap." The sickening creature lunged for the open door. Dean let go of it and threw himself to the side as it crashed into the wood. He felt a sharp pain rake across his back as the thing's clawed hand slashed out at him, and then heard his brother shout his name as he rolled across the floor.

"DEAN!" Sam fired quickly into the beast when it burst through the door. He aimed for the head, but his initial shots did not seem to have much of an effect, although it did distract the creature from Dean, which was something. On the down side, it was now focused on him, and Sam sucked in a breath when it lunged across the open space and came for him. He emptied the clip into both its heads; trying to distract it. The horse's head dropped, but momentum brought the nukelavee to him. Sam backed away hurriedly and only too late realized his mistake when his foot caught on a buckled floorboard. He fell backward with the nukelavee's abnormally long arms reaching for him. Their combined weight was too much for the floor. He heard it crack and felt the second it gave way.

Dean pushed up from the floor and turned his head in time to watch in horror as his brother, his flashlight, and the creature dropped out of sight along with the crumbling roar of the floor collapsing. "SAM!" He sat up and then curled back over onto his knees with a strained grunt of pain as his back refused to cooperate and burned badly enough to make his stomach churn. "Crap. Move…dammit, move!"

"H…hello?" A trembling, female voice called out from behind the now smashed door.

Dean groaned and climbed unsteadily to his feet. He rescued his flashlight from the floor and, resisting the instinctive urge to immediately go check for Sam knowing there was an innocent victim nearby, moved to the entrance to the room, shining it in while he leaned heavily on the one door still standing. "Ellie?" he called and looked in surprise to find her standing unharmed on the other side of what looked like a pool.

"Yes! Oh, my God! Are you the police?" Ellie blinked in the beam from Dean's flashlight and neared the edge of the pool.

"Not…damn," Dean broke off and hunched over. "Not exactly. How are you still alive?"

Ellie rubbed a hand over her face and sniffed. "When that thing…when it…it took Matt…." She sucked in a labored breath and felt tears wetting her cheeks yet again. "When it took him, he told me to run, and I came up here and I didn't know where else to go. And then…then it came in here and…but it never came in to get me. I don't know why. It was like it didn't want to come across the water or something."

"Water." Dean nodded. That actually made a sort of sense. A lot of the older creatures from the same area of the world as the hydrus avoided running water. "Stay…stay there then, alright? We'll come back for you."

"You're leaving me?" Ellie's voice rose up to a frantic pitch. "No…no way." She ran to the shallow end of the pool and jumped in, wading across to the near side and climbed back out dripping. "I'm…I'm starving and thirsty, and I'm not staying another minute trapped in this room. I can't. I'm coming with you."

Dean shook his head and worked to straighten himself. "No. I have to…my brother's down there. He's hurt." He pointed to the hole in the floor praying desperately that "hurt" was still the operative word and not…he pushed the thought of the alternative aside. "Can't save him and you at the same time. Please."

"You're hurt. You need help." Ellie nodded firmly even as she shook in fear. "Matt…he'd want me to help you."

"Matt. Big guy. Bald head?" Dean asked and smiled in spite of everything when Ellie nodded and her eyes overflowed again. "He's alive. We found him downstairs and got him out yesterday."

"He's…" Ellie pushed her fist into her mouth to stop the sob of relief trying to force its way out, and then she steadied with a deep breath. "Now I'm definitely helping you. Come on."

Dean shook his head in admiration and moved cautiously to the edge of the hole. He shined his light down and followed it with his gun. "Sammy?" It was hard to see. Sand and dust floated in the air like a cloud, scattering the beam of light like fog, and Dean fought the growing sense of dread when he realized just how far the fall had been, the doctor's dire warnings about internal bleeding screaming in his mind. "Sam!" Dean bit his bottom lip when he heard a soft groan. "I'm coming down for you, buddy. You sit tight! Come on, then. Stay behind me."

Ellie nodded and stayed close at his back, barely restraining herself from taking hold of the back of his jacket just to make sure she didn't lose him. "Matt…you're sure he's alright?"

"He's alive," Dean said, unwilling to lie to her about his condition but not wanting to send her into a crying fit when she found out he'd lost an arm and likely a leg as well. He turned in surprise when another flashlight went on behind him.

Ellie smiled sadly. "My last batteries. I was pretty much freaking out in there about what I'd do once I was left in the dark for good."

Dean turned back and headed down the stairs. Only fear for his brother kept him moving while the wounds on his back screamed at him. It was hard to stay standing and he could feel the steady trickle of blood down his skin under his shirts. "You're pretty damn impressive, Ellie. Staying alive in here for two days on your own." He gave her the praise, hoping to bolster her confidence but inside his mind was stuck on a loop of 'save Sam, save Sam, save Sam' and he picked up his pace in spite of his pain, but he did have another nagging worry. "Ellie, you haven't been hurt have you? Any small holes anywhere? Stomach cramps?"

Ellie frowned behind him and shook her head. "No. Nothing like that."

Dean blew out a breath that he wouldn't have to cut another hydrus out of someone and then turned at the bottom of the stairs on the third floor. "I mean it. Stay behind me," he lowered his voice and started into the hall. "If that thing comes for you again, you shag ass…"

"Back upstairs and slowly starve to death next to the pool all alone?" Ellie said and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, that's gonna happen."

"Sam's gonna like you," Dean said softly and opened the first door he came to. It opened slowly, with barely a creak and he knew he was in the right place when his flashlight found the same cloud of dust he'd seen from above. "Sam?" he called softly and heard another answering moan from nearby. Dean listened hard but didn't hear anything other than his brother. He didn't like it one bit. It made him nervous. He eased into the room with Ellie sticking almost against his back and stumbled on debris from the floor above.

"Careful," Ellie whispered and caught his arm to steady him. She heard another soft moan off to their right and gave Dean's elbow a tug in that direction.

"I hear him." Dean turned and picked his way carefully over the broken floorboards and ceiling tiles. He nearly stepped on his brother's outstretched arm when he saw it with his flashlight. "Shit!" Dean dropped to his knees and crawled the few feet to his brother. "Sammy?" He put a hand to Sam's jaw and rolled his head toward him. He was coated in sand and dust, and Sam's face frowned slightly with the movement. "Hey, buddy. Come back now. Sam."

Ellie played her light around the room, trying to see through the dust for any sign of the creature and rubbed her arm when she couldn't find it. It made her nervous not knowing where it was. She knelt by the two men and watched Dean brushing dust from his brother's face to get a better look at him. "He doesn't look too good."

"He was already hurt," Dean said quietly and held Sam's face when he moaned again. "The creature got hold of him yesterday. He's gonna be ok, though." 'Has to be ok' Dean amended in his head silently. He leaned over Sam when his brother's eyes started to flutter. "Sammy? Wake up, buddy. No time for a nap."

Sam swam slowly back up from the black nothingness he'd fallen into and opened his eyes to his brother's concerned face lit by a flashlight. "Dean." His voice was hoarse and he coughed to clear his throat. The cough was a mistake as it pulled something painfully in his stomach and he tried to curl in on himself, but Dean's hands stopped him.

"No, Sam. Lay still for a sec." Dean waited until he settled and looked over at Ellie. "Found our girl."

Sam blinked and turned his head up. He smiled in spite of the considerable pain he was in when he saw her sitting beside him. "Hi." He was overcome with relief that they had actually found her alive and couldn't stop the stupid grin that creased his face.

Ellie smiled, falling just a little bit in love with the warm, blue-green eyes that looked so happily up at her and touched a hand to his hair. "Hi, Sam. I'm Ellie."

Dean smiled tensely and tugged his brother's shirt up. His smile faded when he saw blood spotting the bandage over Sam's stomach, an icy fear that had nothing to do with his own injuries spreading through him. "Damn. How bad do you hurt, Sam?" He pressed gently into his brother's left side and up to his ribs.

Sam gasped and was grateful when Ellie took hold of his hand and squeezed. He swallowed, closed his eyes and nodded. "Yeah…hurts. It's ok."

"No, it's not dammit." Dean sat back and looked down at him. "You know what the doc said, dude. This is so far from taking it easy, it's not even on the same continent. If one of those bruises tore…" Once again, he was torn between finishing the job and keeping his little brother alive. Sam could be bleeding out internally while he was sitting there watching and he wouldn't even know. And even if he did, he'd be helpless to do anything about it.

"No, it's ok." Sam put his other hand to Dean's shoulder and used it to pull himself up so he was sitting. He smiled back at Ellie when she pushed behind him and didn't mention that she had a hand pressing into what was no doubt going to be an impressive bruise from his fall. "Hurts, but…not like…not that bad. I'm good; just banged up. That sucked." He leaned forward into Dean's supporting arm and caught his breath. "Where is it?"

Dean shook his head. "No idea. Must be another door in here." He shined his flashlight around the room again now that the dust was settling and nodded when he found it, a door that had been smashed out across from them. "Got it. You stand?" He didn't have a choice. If Sam said he was good to keep going, they had to. The creature could come back for them at any moment and now they had a civilian in tow. "Help me get him up?"

Sam got to his feet between them and clasped a hand gently around Ellie's shoulder, getting a good look at her in the light from the flashlights. She was pale, her face drawn even as she smiled and the bags under her eyes had their own bags. "Are you alright?"

Tears welled up in Ellie's eyes at the heartfelt question and she nodded. "Tired and thirsty. I'll be fine now."

Sam smiled again with the unspoken end he could hear to that sentence; 'now that you're here'. "Dean? Bag?"

"Yeah. It's, uh…upstairs somewhere." He smiled sheepishly. "Kinda lost track of it when the knucklehead slammed me to the floor."

Sam's eyes opened wide and he grabbed his brother, turning him around. "Dammit," Sam breathed while Ellie held her light to Dean's back and he could see the rents in the back of his jacket and the blood saturating the fabric. "We have to go back up for the bag."

"No, Sam," Dean shook his head. "We're gonna…"

"Go back upstairs and get the bag and the holy water unless you've forgotten what happened to me the other night after that thing got its claws into me." Sam glared at his brother until Dean rolled his eyes and subsided.

"Fine," Dean said grudgingly. He pulled one of Sam's arms over his shoulders and started him moving with Ellie on the other side to steady his little brother. In truth, he was beginning to feel warmer than he should, and he knew it was the start of the nukelavee's poison working into him. Sam was right; if they didn't cleanse his wounds now, he'd be useless very soon. It was just hard to admit when all he wanted to do was finish the damn job and get Sam the hell out of there so he could check his condition more thoroughly.

"What happened?" Ellie asked and slid an arm around the back of Sam's waist when she felt him shivering.

"Its touch is poison, or something like it," Sam said for lack of a better explanation. "The wounds have to be cleansed with holy water. Ow," Sam groaned softly and hunched forward a little as they climbed over the debris to the door.

"Easy, Sammy." Dean soothed. As much as his back hurt, and it did, he was more concerned about Sam and whether or not he'd be rushing him to the clinic when they were done. Dean rolled his eyes and decided he would definitely be calling Dr. Simons when they were finished no matter what. He wasn't going to take a chance with Sam's life, not after that fall. It was a miracle he wasn't hurt worse.

"Think all that bruising inside the…the doc was talking about…starting to come up for sure." Sam swallowed and stood straighter in spite of the pain. "I think I hate snakes now."

Dean snorted as they stepped into the hall. "Join the club, Indiana." He would never forget having to pull a live and fighting snake from his brother's body. That little gem was going to give him sleepless nights, he was sure. "Just as long as they're still just bruises. I'm telling you, Sammy, you start feeling lightheaded – like lightheaded from blood loss – even a little, you tell me." Sam rolled his eyes, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Yes, mom," but nodded his acknowledgement.

Ellie smiled while the brother's talked. It was heartwarming listening to them banter back and forth despite the gravity of the situation and it helped calm her. She shifted her grip on his arm when they reached the stairs and saw something move from the corner of her eye. Ellie stopped and gasped softly. "Guys," she said in a harsh whisper. She turned her head to the left and slowly brought her flashlight with her and it was like being stuck in a horror film when you know the monster is about to jump out. Her light shone along the stairs, then the wall, and she felt her blood turn to ice in her veins as the beam from the flashlight glistened along the skinless body of the creature so very close to them, and her breath stuttered to a halt in her chest. They were going to die.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Dean saw Ellie's entire body tense with her whispered word even as the unnatural fever began to burn through him in earnest. He shoved Sam into Ellie and the wall, spun and fired along the beam of her light into the nukelavee. "MOVE!"

Sam jerked into motion with Dean's bellow. He grabbed hold of Ellie and spun her to the stairs. "Go! Down!"

"No!" Ellie shouted and pulled Sam instead, dragging him onto the flight up. "Go up to the pool! It won't cross the water!"

Sam stared in surprise and started moving as Dean fired again. He'd lost his gun in the fall and wished he'd thought to find it before they left the room. He lagged behind Ellie, ready to grab his brother and force Dean to follow if necessary, but he was already there at the bottom of the stairs. So was the nukelavee. It screamed in anger when Dean shot it again, and the caricature of a man's head flew backward with the impact of the bullet. At the same moment, Dean faltered and swayed backward.

"Dean!" Sam darted down and wrapped one arm around his brother's waist to hold him up, his own injuries forgotten in a rush of adrenaline and his fear for Dean. He pulled the gun from Dean's weakening grip and began dragging him up the stairs. "Ellie!"

"Here." Ellie slid under Dean's arm and took as much of his weight as she could, but he was just so much bigger than her. She grunted with the effort of pulling the ailing man up the steps. "Dean, help."

Dean nodded in his now-fevered delirium and tried to turn and make his legs cooperate. The wounds on his back burned with a new pain that seemed to spread through him and sap his strength, all while stealing the much-needed air from his lungs and he gasped. "Sam," he panted between heavy breaths and nodded, relieved when Sam began to back up the stairs with them with the gun trained on the screaming creature that, for the moment, seemed unwilling to follow.

Sam felt one of Dean's hands fumble for the neck of his jacket and then grasp it. Despite the burning pain now coursing through Dean's body and the haze of fever, there was still one thought so bedrock solid that it seemed to be embedded in his soul rather than his mind and that was to make sure that Sammy got out of there too, and his grip on his brother's jacket was like a steel cable between them. Sam used the unwavering touch at his back as a guide while he walked backward up the steps, never taking the gun off the creature in the shaking light that Ellie was trying to keep on it for him. "Hurry." He could feel a frightening heat from Dean's fingers where they wrapped over his collar and against the back of his neck and knew they had only minutes before his brother was no longer able to walk.

Dean struggled through the dizziness that was overtaking him and moved faster up the stairs, only able to keep his feet because of Ellie's solid presence under his arm. She seemed determined to keep him upright and moving. He blinked in surprise when he suddenly felt Sam under his other arm, prying his fingers loose from his collar to pull his arm over his shoulder, and realized they'd reached the top and Sam was there, damn near lifting him up to carry him at a fast walk around the destroyed floor to the open door.

"Ellie, grab that bag!" Sam said hurriedly and took all of Dean's weight while she darted away. He turned back to the stairs and heard the nukelavee starting up after them. He dragged Dean through the door, and his eyes widened at seeing the pool when Ellie's flashlight shone in beside him. He remembered then a part of the nukelavee lore he'd read and set aside, not thinking there'd be any use for it in a hotel in the middle of the desert. They couldn't cross running water. Now Sam thought that lore should be amended to any water, since a pool certainly didn't qualify as 'running'.

"Over here. Quick!" Ellie moved back under Dean's other arm, hefting the bag along with her and pulled them to the left side of the room and the shallow end. "There's stairs down on this side. We'll have to climb out on the other."

Sam pulled Dean to the edge of the pool and grunted in pain and worry when Dean suddenly went limp in his grasp. "Dean!" He heard the sound of cracking wood from outside the door and shook his head. They were out of time. He wrapped both arms around his brother's chest and jumped down into the shallow water with him. It was lukewarm and murky from years of disuse but cushioned their fall. "Keep the bag out of the water, Ellie," Sam told her quickly as he got his legs under him. He pulled Dean through the water to the other side of the pool as the creature entered the room. Its roar filled the empty space and rang in Sam's ears.

Ellie splashed into the water behind them and crossed. She tossed the heavy bag up to the other side of the pool and then took hold of Dean while Sam climbed out, keeping his head above the water. "Sam?"

"He'll be alright," Sam said a little breathlessly and bent to reach under Dean's arms. He pulled his brother up with a growl of effort and did his best to ignore the now persistent ache in his stomach. He got Dean's upper body out of the pool, and then Ellie was there, helping to drag him the rest of the way. "Get…get his jacket and shirts off." Sam pulled the bag over and dug out another flashlight and then got back to his feet with the gun. He aimed both across the pool and wasn't surprised the find the nukelavee pacing its length from wall to wall and staring over at them.

"It'll just stay there getting all pissed off for a while and then it wanders off or something, like it gets bored," Ellie said softly and wrestled Dean's jacket from his arms.

Looking around a bit more, Sam realized how lucky they were with the way the room was laid out. The pool literally ran the length from wall to wall, unlike the usual layout with the pool in the center of the room with access from all sides. The side they were on was more of a very wide ledge along a solid wall, probably more decorative than anything, judging by the empty planters scattered about that had probably once held potted palm trees or something. There were no doors or any other openings behind them for which Sam gave a silent prayer of thanks.

The hideous creature continued to pace back and forth, becoming more and more agitated; growling low and making garbled snuffling noises. Sam resisted the urge to shoot at it again just on principle. It couldn't get them for now and he needed to save the ammunition. "Ok." He turned away from the nukelavee with difficulty and dropped to his knees beside Dean. "Help me sit him up. Dean?" Sam pulled on his arms and got his brother sitting up. He watched Dean's eyes flutter but not open. "Quick." They both pulled and tugged and got the bloody shirts off over his head. "Hold the light." Sam carefully rolled his brother over onto his stomach and laid him down while Dean moaned softly with one of his shirts folded under his head. "It's ok, Dean. You'll be ok."

"What do you need?" Ellie held the light up and put a hand over her mouth when she saw the four long gashes across Dean's back, running crosswise from shoulder to hip. "Oh, my God." She couldn't imagine how he'd managed to be up and moving at all like he had.

Sam pulled the bag over and went through it until he found the holy water. "This is…it's gonna hurt him. Bad. Don't freak out."

"What is that?" Ellie asked while Sam unscrewed the cap from a metal canteen.

"Holy water," Sam said softly and moved to kneel next to Dean's back. "But it's going to feel like acid to him until the wounds are cleansed."

Ellie nodded fearfully and then reached down to hold one of Dean's hands as Sam turned the bottle and started to pour. She yelped when Dean suddenly crushed her hand in his grip and cried out, but she didn't try to free herself. He'd been hurt coming to save her, and giving him something to hold onto was the least she could do in thanks. "It's alright, Dean," she said softly,

Sam planted one hand between Dean's shoulder blades above the wounds to hold him still. "Easy, Dean," Sam said over top of another choked scream from his brother. The holy water hissed and bubbled across his back while Sam poured, and he kept the stream going, moving back and forth over the wounds. Dean bucked under his hand and writhed, but Sam pressed his upper body to the floor to keep him from rolling away. "Almost done."

Ellie held the flashlight steady so Sam could see while tears rolled down her cheeks for the agony Dean was in, and she squeezed his hand back. "I'm sorry."

Dean was dragged screaming back into consciousness by the liquid fire being poured over his back and Sam and Ellie's voices trying to anchor him through it. He shouted and knew he was crushing whoever's hand he was holding. "Sam!"

"Right here, Dean," Sam said and fought to keep his voice calm. It hurt him to cause his brother this much pain even to help him. He wanted to stop and give Dean time to catch his breath, but he knew he couldn't. He had to finish cleansing the wounds or they would kill him. "Almost, Dean. Just breathe…keep breathing." Sam remembered how it had felt, like a weight had been sitting on his chest while Dean cleansed his wounds in the car.

"How much longer?" Ellie asked and propped the light between her chin and shoulder so she could grasp Dean's trembling hand in both of her own. "Sam?"

"Close." Sam had nearly emptied the container of holy water by the time it stopped bubbling. Dean heaved a great, ragged breath and settled to the floor, so disturbingly still that Sam feared the trauma had killed him. "Dean?" He set the canteen down and lunged to get a hand to his brother's sweat-covered throat. "Oh, thank God." Sam breathed and sagged forward in relief when he felt Dean's racing pulse under his fingers.

Ellie rubbed her fingers over the back of Dean's now limp hand and brushed the tears off her face with her other hand. "He's alright now?"

"He will be, yeah." Sam pushed back up with a soft groan of pain and held an arm over his stomach for a moment. "Crap."

"Sam?" Ellie took her light and shined it on him curiously. "Dean said something about you being in the hospital. Are you alright?"

Sam nodded wearily though he wasn't sure about that anymore and pulled the bag closer. "I'll be fine." He took out the first aid kit and pulled out the bandages and gauze. "I'm more worried about him right now." He blinked, surprised at himself for not thinking and reached back into the bag. He pulled his hand out and handed a bottle of water to Ellie with a smile. "You probably want this right about now."

"Oh, good God, yes," Ellie said and if she'd any moisture left in her mouth, it would have watered. She set the flashlight down while Sam opened the bottle and took it in a shaking hand.

Sam nodded while she drank hungrily. "Go slow. Don't throw it back up because you drank too fast. Trust me."

Ellie nodded and slowed from gulps to sips but the water felt like heaven in her parched mouth and throat. She had been dizzy and nearly desperate enough to start drinking the dirty pool water when they had shown up. She'd emptied her own bottle of water the day before and been too terrified to venture away from the pool on her own. "Don't suppose you've got a steak in there?"

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. "Sorry." But then a thought occurred to him and he unzipped one of the outside pockets of the bag. Ruefully he held up an open, half eaten protein bar he'd stashed in there when he'd gotten distracted on a hunt a week or two earlier and forgotten about. "It's probably stale, but –" He got no further before Ellie snatched it from his hand, peeled back the open wrapper and took a bite with a little moan of pleasure.

She flashed him a grateful smile and mumbled "Desperate times," around a mouthful of probably rock-hard granola and dried fruit.

He smiled and nodded in understanding, picked his flashlight back up and aimed it across the pool again. He had to search and finally found the nukelavee in the door. It was easing silently around it and out of sight. He frowned. He liked it better when he knew where it was. He turned back to his brother and put his attention on dressing the wounds and ignoring his own pain. Dean stirred just as Sam was finishing up and he watched his brother's head turn to the side and glazed, green eyes blink open in the dim light.

"S'mmy?" Dean slurred softly as he woke.

"Right here, Dean." Sam put a hand to the back of his head for a second to let him know where he was. "How do you feel?"

Dean moaned softly and then startled when he realized his hand was still being held. He managed to raise his head enough to see and smiled weakly at Ellie. "Like hell but…pretty girl's holdin' my hand, so…been worse."

Ellie laughed softly and smiled down at him. "You always flirt when you wake up?"

Sam chuckled. "He pretty much flirts when he breathes."

"Shuddup, Sam," Dean pulled off a weak glare and then groaned. "Floor's cold. Help me up."

"Hang on." Sam taped the last bandage in place and then took the arm Ellie didn't have hold of. "Ok, here we go. Slowly, dude."

Dean nodded wordlessly and let them roll him carefully over while Sam pulled until finally he was sitting on the cold, marble floor. A wave of vertigo washed over him, and his head tipped forward to thump into his brother's shoulder. "Shit."

"It's alright." Sam held on to him while Dean's ragged breathing slowly evened out. He pulled Dean's discarded jacket over and carefully draped it across his brother's back before the chill in the room could get to him. "Take your time."

"Good," Dean raised his head slowly while his face reddened for looking so weak in front of Ellie. "I'm good."

"You're really not," Sam said and pulled Dean's jacket around his shoulders so he could work his arms into the sleeves. "I should know."

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. "Where'd ugly go?"

"Don't know," Sam rested back on his heels with a hand over his ribs. "It was in here for a while and then it just left."

"I tried to get out once," Ellie said softly and looked down at the floor. "It almost caught me at the top of the stairs. "It was waiting for me."

Dean put a hand on her knee when he saw her shiver and smiled. "You're gonna be fine now. We're gonna gank that thing and get you outta here. I promise."

"Don't," Ellie said suddenly and shook her head sadly. "You can't promise that."

"Yeah, I can." Dean gave her a lop-sided smile. "A Winchester always keeps his promise."

Sam smiled softly and sat back further. Dean was using the same tone he used to use with Sam when they were kids and Sam was frightened of something or on their first few hunts when he had all but cowered behind his big brother. Dean had always promised he would get him out safe because a 'Winchester always keeps his promise,' and if Dean said it, he had to do it. Sam remembered how comforting that had been when he was young, how easily he had believed it because his big brother told him so, and he missed that innocence. Now he was seriously wondering how the hell they were going to get out of this mess with both of them hurting and weakened and facing a creature they had never dealt with before.

"Hey." Dean frowned and grabbed Sam's shoulder worriedly while his brother seemed to be staring off at nothing with a hand braced low on his ribs.

Sam jerked his head up in surprise. He didn't realize how far off into his own thoughts he'd gone. "Huh? Sorry."

"Alright. That's it for break time," Dean said and got his legs under him. "Nope, stay there a minute longer." He kept a hand on Sam's good shoulder and used it to get himself standing and keep Sam on the floor. Dean swayed a little and then found his balance. He pulled his jacket around his chest and zipped it up. "Where's my gun?"

Ellie grabbed it from where Sam had left it on the floor and handed it to him. "Here. What can I do?"

"Keep chuckles there sitting down 'til I say otherwise." Dean smiled at her. "He's stubborn. You might have to sit on him."

Sam glared and as he moved to stand up, Ellie was suddenly there tugging him back down. "Dammit. You are NOT fighting this thing alone, Dean!"

"I know, alright?" Dean looked down at him seriously. "But I am gonna figure out a way to gank this thing that doesn't involve you getting injured again. If you think I can't see you're worse after that fall, you're stupid as well as stubborn."

"Dean, I'm…"

"If you say you're fine, I WILL knock your ass out while I do this," Dean growled angrily. He winced when his back pulled painfully and sighed. "You might be bleeding internally right now, Sam. That was a hell of a fall."

Sam opened his mouth to argue and then closed it. Dean was right, and if the shoe were on the other foot, he'd be just as scared as Dean was right then. "Fine. But if I even think you're going to go after that thing alone, I'll be the one knocking YOU out."

Dean grinned. "Deal." He straightened his jacket and bent next to the weapons bag. "But only because you couldn't beat me right now if you tried, genius."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Ellie laughed softly at them and kept her hold on Sam's arm, just in case. "So, what do we do now?"

Dean dug through the bag and found his spare clip. He pushed it into his pocket and picked up Ellie's flashlight. "I'm gonna go see where Silent Hill wandered off to first while you stay here." He raised a hand before Sam could open his mouth. "Promise, dude. Just gonna stick my head out the door."

"And then?" Ellie asked, no more happy than Sam was with the division of labor.

"Once I know where he is, we lure him out and Sam fills him full of lead while I sneak in and take its head." Dean smiled. "Easy."

"Right," Sam said as Dean stood, swayed and then groaned. "Easy."

"Yep," Dean rolled his head and went to the edge of the pool. His jeans were already wet and he sighed before dropping into the water with a soft splash. He grimaced at the color of it, scummed as it was with rust, algae and sand, and crossed to the stairs thinking, even if they got out of this without further injury, they'd probably both still end up with infections from wading around in the murky water with open wounds. He shone his light at the broken door while he climbed out and listened intently for any sound from the other side; there was nothing. "Too damn quiet," Dean whispered and put his back to the unbroken door. He went carefully to the edge and leaned to look out. He played the flashlight around the room and then toward the stairs. He was just about to move back when he saw it; the set of double doors to the left of the pool. They were open just a crack, and he was sure they had been closed the first time they'd come up to the pool level. Dean backed away from the door and down the steps into the pool with his nerves tingling.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly as his brother waded back to their side of the pool. He moved and gave Ellie a look until she rolled her eyes with a smile and let him. "Thanks." He got to his feet with Ellie next to him and watched Dean stiffly try to pull himself back out and then give up with a snarl of frustration.

"It's hiding out in the room to the left of us," Dean said breathlessly and rested his arms on the edge to give his aching back a rest. "Grab the spare gun from the bag, Sam, and get out here. We're gonna bag us a knuck-a-whatsit right the hell now." He looked up at Ellie. "Your job is to stay behind him. He's more hurt than he's fessin' up to."

"Dean."

"Sam."

"Just…" Sam blew out an aggrieved breath and smirked. "Fine. Let's do this." There was no point in arguing with Dean when he was like this. All Sam could do was work around the big-brother-protective-streak that ran deeper than even Sam realized. He turned to the bag, but Ellie was already pulling the gun out and handed it up to him.

"Here." Ellie shoved the mess of the first aid kit back inside it and then picked up the heavy bag, slinging it over her shoulders. "Let's do this."

Sam gave Ellie a look of quiet awe and put his free hand on her shoulder with a smile. "You're pretty amazing, Ellie." He meant it. After everything she had seen and been through, she was shouldering the horror and fighting rather than collapsing into terror like her friend in the van had done.

Dean snorted and grinned up at her. "Does Matt know he's dating Xena, warrior princess?"

Ellie chuckled and followed Sam to the edge of the pool. "The day I met him he said girls couldn't throw a proper punch."

"I know I'm gonna love this," Dean said while she sat on the edge of the pool and grinned at him. "And?"

"He declared his undying love for me once he woke up," Ellie said and shrugged happily.

Sam laughed and eased himself down to the side of the pool. "I'll give you Dean's number. If you ever leave Matt, he'll take you on. He likes a challenge." He slid into the water while Ellie laughed and rolled his eyes when he felt his brother's fingers try to sneak across the back of his neck in a fever check.

Dean smiled, letting the light conversation lessen some of the tension before he climbed back up the stairs out of the pool. He stopped them a few feet from the door. "I'm going to ease out along the wall," he whispered. "Gimme a thirty count and then make some noise. Get ugly's attention. And, Sam…do NOT fall through the floor again." Dean gave him a quick grin.

Sam rolled his eyes, but then watched fearfully as Dean turned his flashlight off and slipped out of the door. He didn't realize just how much he'd tensed up until Ellie's hand landed on his elbow. "Thirty seconds," he whispered to her and took a step nearer the door to be ready.

Dean blinked furiously in the gloomy darkness and kept his left hand just behind him so he knew where the wall was. He took careful, measured steps and ignored the still burning pain in his back with each one. He nodded to himself when he reached the corner and soundlessly changed direction. In his head, he was counting and hit thirty at the same moment that the beam of a flashlight shone out of the pool door again and he heard his brother's voice. Dean kept his eyes away from the light and to his left where he knew the door was. He heard Sam's heavy step purposefully making noise as he stepped out into the open and cursed his little brother's stubbornness at putting himself in danger as he heard something move in the nearby door. Dean heard the sound of a heavy breath. He smelled the faint odor of sulfur, and readied himself when the nukelavee emerged with its eyes fixed across the room on Sam.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_To Be Continued…_


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Sam felt like his nerves were going to shake him apart as he walked out of the door and made sure to bang his feet into the floor. His often-ignored instinct for self-preservation shouted at him that he was making himself a juicy target and, if the creature didn't kill him, Dean likely would for putting himself out there when he was just supposed to draw its attention from the door. Sam, however, didn't trust that the nukelavee was stupid enough take the bait. It had spent two days waiting for Ellie to come out of there. He didn't think a little noise and light would make it careless. Having a nice tasty human in its sights, though…Sam started whistling and tried to make sure he didn't turn his head toward where he knew the creature and his brother should be.

Ellie watched from inside the pool room as Sam made himself a target and marveled at the courage it took to do that…not to mention the level of complete trust he must have in his brother. She didn't think she'd have it in her. She kept her head toward Sam but allowed her eyes to stray to the left, and, in the meager amount of light from Sam's flashlight that reached the other side of the room, she saw when the darkly glistening monster emerged without a sound. She wanted to shout out and warn him, but she bit her lip instead. They knew what they were doing…she hoped.

Sam could almost feel the thing without even having to see it; its presence was that malevolent. His skin crawled and he tightened his grip on his gun. He had purposefully chosen a path that put the gaping hole in the floor between them as his line of defense. He waited until he was directly across the widest portion and then spun. He brought the flashlight up along with his gun and found the nukelavee almost to the other side of the hole. Sam sucked in a surprised breath and fired into the horse's chest. He shot again, hitting it in the head, and then aimed for the other head riding high above while it roared in anger and pain.

Dean pulled his machete free of its sheathe and made for the nukelavee's unprotected back as Sam opened fire. He raced up behind it, and just as he was about to leap up onto its back, the creature executed an impossible standing jump, sailing over the hole in the floor and toward his brother on the other side. "SAM!"

Sam was frozen for just a second in shock as the nukelavee soared over the gap toward him. He shook off the paralysis and threw himself to the side. It crashed to the floor behind him, and Sam felt it shake unsteadily beneath him. He rolled quickly to his back with a bitten off moan for the renewed pain in his chest and stomach and fired up into the underside of the horse's head when it rose over him. His flashlight rolled beside him, and a second beam cut through the darkness from the door to the pool room and backlit the horrible creature above him. He emptied the clip into the monster as it raised a leg up over his chest poised to deliver a crushing blow and knew he didn't have the time to get away.

"NO!" Dean bellowed it as he rounded the hole. He slapped his hands into the rump of the horse with a grimace for the feel of the skinless, bloody flesh under his hands and propelled himself up behind the torso of its rider. The nukelavee reared back and spun, trying to throw him off, but Dean clamped his left hand on the thing's shoulder. He swung his machete up and stabbed it through the creature's neck below its human head while the unnaturally long arms bent up to try and grasp at him with those clawed fingers.

Dean ducked their grasp, feeling them catch on the sleeves of his jacket. "Come on!" he shouted and twisted the blade, feeling muscles sever as he pulled and wiggled the blade. He couldn't exactly get leverage for a clean swing from his position, but he was determined to get the beast's head off before it had another go at his brother.

Sam scrambled back as quickly as he could away from the stomping feet of the nukelavee while its attention was focused on his brother. He popped the empty clip out of the gun and felt in his pocket for a spare, groaning when he realized he didn't have one. "Dammit!" He dropped the gun and pulled his machete instead. He steeled himself against the pain from his stomach and swung hard at the horse's head. The blade sliced through its jaw and the horse screamed, pulling its head to the side away from him.

Dean sawed his machete back and forth through the neck and pulled his head back, holding his breath as it opened its jaws to scream sulfurous air into his face. He gagged and let go of the nukelavee's shoulder to grip the other end of his machete for added leverage, trying to hold it carefully and not slice his hand in half. Dean yelled with effort as he shoved the machete through muscle and bone.

"Dean?" Sam called and lunged in along the nukelavee's body to stab his machete into the horse's chest, trying to find the heart and pierce it. Dark blood gushed over his hands and he grimaced.

"Almost!" Dean shouted and pulled harder on the blade. He clenched his teeth together, feeling the bite of the blunt side of the blade into his left palm and gave a last, harsh pull. The blade sliced through the last of the thing's spine, and Dean turned his head away from the sudden spray of black blood. He lost his seat and fell backwards off the horse while it screamed and the man's head tumbled down to the floor and rolled through the hole into the room below.

Sam ducked a swing of the horse's head and watched it fall to its knees and then over onto its side. "Dean!" He staggered around the hole to his brother, concerned when Dean just stayed on his back in the beam from Ellie's light.

"Ow," Dean groaned softly and raised his left hand up to take a look at it and the deep cut running across his palm. "Sam?"

"Right here." Sam knelt stiffly next to his brother and looked over at the pool door and Ellie's wide eyes peering out behind her flashlight. "It's safe now. You can come out."

Ellie aimed her light at the now motionless body of the nukelavee and took a tentative step out. "You sure?"

"Probably," Dean said and sat up with a groan and help from his brother. "Seein' as his head's one floor down, I think we're ok for now." He pulled a knee in to stand and then hunched over with a soft, pain-filled moan. "Ok, really. Ow."

Sam waved Ellie over and pulled the back of Dean's jacket up. He hissed between his teeth when he saw the fresh blood saturating the bandages. "Just stay down for a minute, Dean. I'll finish this. I need the bag, Ellie."

Ellie nodded and knelt on Dean's other side as she handed the bag across to Sam. "Dean? Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, more or less." Dean rested his head on his bent knee, still not ready to try straightening his back again.

"Here." Sam handed Ellie a roll of gauze and the almost empty canteen of holy water. "Clean his hand for me." He took out the can of lighter fluid and a Zippo and got slowly back to his feet. "I'm gonna go make sure that thing doesn't come back to life."

"Hey, no." Dean raised his head up at that to glare at his brother.

"Dean, it's fine." Sam smiled and waved at the dead body. "Soon as I get the head burnt, we'll all be safe. Just let Ellie fix your hand." He didn't give Dean time to argue and headed for the stairs, scooping up his flashlight as he went.

"Stubborn son of a…I'm fine," Dean said defensively when Ellie grabbed his left hand.

"Of course you are," Ellie smiled and rolled her eyes. "You're fine. Sam's fine. Hell, I'm fine too. Now let me see it."

Dean chuckled and uncurled his fingers slowly for her. Meanwhile, his eyes followed his brother's progress until he vanished down the stairs, and it was all Dean could do to stop himself trying to follow once he was out of sight. He looked down at his hand when Ellie put the light on it and grimaced. "Sam's gonna have to stitch that up later," he grumbled. "Hate stitches in my hand. They always itch like hell."

Ellie bit her bottom lip as she unscrewed the cap on the canteen and held it up. "I…is this going to be like when Sam cleaned your back?"

Dean sighed. "Only one way to find out." He smiled for her. "Go ahead. It's ok."

Ellie took a deep breath and poured the last of the holy water over Dean's hand. It washed away red blood and the darker black blood of the creature, but, thankfully, it didn't bubble and hiss and she blew out a breath with a smile. "Oh, thank goodness."

Dean let his own breath out and sagged in relief. "I'll second that. Guess it's only the claws and teeth you gotta worry about." He angled his head to see the hole in the floor around Ellie's shoulder and frowned. "Sam?" He yelled and smiled when he heard his brother's voice come up to them.

Sam aimed his light up through the hole above him for a second. "I'm good! Got the head!" He looked back down at the creature's head and shuddered. Its face was like a skinless death mask, and flesh and muscle hung jaggedly from where Dean had sawed it off. Sam opened the lighter fluid and started squirting it over the macabre face. He gasped and stepped back when the lipless mouth opened with a hiss to show rows of sharp teeth.

"Shit!" Sam backed away one more step and saturated the head. He grabbed the Zippo from his pocket, flicked it to life, and tossed it down. He watched with satisfaction as the flames burst to life, sending a warm, orange glow to fill the room while the nukelavee's head hissed and finally went silent. "It's toast!" Sam shouted up and then allowed himself the luxury of curling over himself to his knees a few feet from the cheerfully burning head. The burn of pain in his stomach was slowly becoming a pressure in his chest, constricting his breathing. "Dean," Sam gasped and closed his eyes to try and get a big enough breath to shout up for his brother.

"You rang?"

Sam jerked his head around in surprise and saw his brother and Ellie standing in the door. He smiled wearily and dropped his head. "Hey."

Dean sighed and walked over to Sam to kneel next to him. He put a hand on his shoulder to steady himself. "Run outta gas finally?"

Sam nodded and unconsciously leaned into the touch while he let his eyes close again. "Just…finding my second wind."

"More like your fifth, dude," Dean said ruefully. He used his other hand to tip his brother's head up and frowned. Sam seemed to be paling while he watched, and the lines on his forehead spoke of pain. "Gimme the truth, Sammy. Motel bad or get-the-doc's-card-outta-my-pocket bad?"

Sam considered it seriously for once instead of just giving the knee-jerk response that he was fine. He let himself feel the pain and how hard it was to catch his breath, and he slumped even further. "Card."

Dean's worry spiked with the candid admission. If Sam was actually asking for a doctor…Dean did not want to even consider the implications of that. He slid his arm over his brother's shoulders. "Ok, we're gonna stand up now, buddy."

Sam nodded and smiled gratefully when Ellie appeared on his other side. He let them both help him up and then took most of his own weight, knowing that Dean, too, was in far more pain than he was letting on. "Still have to burn the body."

Dean snorted. "Dude, look up."

"Huh?" Sam turned his head up toward the hole in the ceiling and realized a fire was burning somewhere above with the way light and shadows were dancing through the darkness.

"Ellie's first salt and burn," Dean said with a small amount of pride as he glanced over at her and then narrowed his eyes. "And her last."

"Oh, don't worry. I am so not going to go looking for this freaky shit." Ellie shook her head. "No way. I'm just gonna pretend I live in blissful ignorance from now on."

"Good." Sam squeezed her shoulder and then started heading for the door. He wasn't sure just how much strength he had left, but he knew he didn't want to make his brother carry him. There was no way Dean could manage that with his back, and that meant reaching the car as quickly as possible.

"Let's blow this pop stand." Dean sent a parting kick to the smoldering remains of the nukelavee's head and then caught up with Sam, pulling an arm over his shoulder. Dean had to work to stay calm as they made their way out of the Goldfield. He could feel Sam shaking and couldn't help but hear his ever-increasingly labored breaths in his ear, but Sam kept walking, kept pushing through for reserves of strength that Dean wouldn't have credited him with after the last couple days.

Sam held his own all the way out of the hotel and down two blocks to the Impala before his get up and go finally got up and went the hell away. He groaned softly when his legs gave out and sank to his knees beside the passenger door. "Sorry," he gasped.

"No problem. You're good." Dean said it like a prayer as he opened the door and met Ellie's concerned eyes. Together, they got Sam up and into the passenger seat. Dean already had his cell phone out as he rounded the car while Ellie climbed in the back. He dug Dr. Simons' card out of his pocket and dialed as he started the engine and looked over at his brother. "Sammy, you stay awake. You hear me?"

Sam nodded and opened his eyes, rolling his head on the seat so he could see his brother. "I'm here."

"Doc?" Dean said and eased the Impala out of her hiding spot onto the road. "We need ya. It's Sam."

Ellie leaned up over the back seat and pressed a hand into Sam's shoulder while Dean told someone on the phone what his brother's condition was. "You're not allowed to give up now, Sam. Ellie's orders."

Sam snorted a soft, weak laugh and nodded. "Yes…yes, ma'am."

"Stop talkin'," Dean ordered, pocketed his phone and reached a hand over; resting it on Sam's chest over his heart so he could feel it beating while he drove. "Doc's gonna meet us at the clinic." He pushed the Impala to the breakneck speed he'd used to save Ellie's friend but this time with even more precious cargo. In his mind, every strained, gasping breath his brother took was a condemnation that he should have finished the damn job on his own or left it until Sam was better. Dean shook his head and looked at Ellie's concerned face in the rearview mirror while she spoke softly to his brother. If he'd waited, she'd be dead; and if he'd gone in alone, well…

"St…stop," Sam pulled a hand up to his chest and wrapped it around Dean's wrist, holding him in place. He could tell just by the lack of expression on Dean's face that he was kicking himself for Sam's condition and it wasn't his fault.

"Dude," Dean groaned and rolled his eyes affectionately. "Stay outta my head already."

Sam smiled and closed his eyes, letting his head roll to the back of the seat. "Sometimes there just are NO good options, Dean," he murmured, feeling his strength draining away as he sank into the welcoming darkness.

"Sammy?" Dean asked with rising panic. "Sam! Open your eyes!"

"Sam?" Ellie put a careful hand to the side of Sam's face and looked over to Dean. "I think he's unconscious."

"Well, of course he is. Dammit!" Dean said angrily and urged the Impala even faster toward Vegas. He wasn't angry at Sam. He was scared.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

Dean sat on the edge of the bed Dr. Simons had forced him into on their arrival and stared at the door, silently willing his brother to reappear. The doctor had done one, quick check of Sam and then started yelling orders while they put him on a gurney and wheeled him out of sight. Ellie's quiet presence was the only thing that kept Dean from tearing the place apart hour after hour with no word on his brother.

"He'll be fine, Dean," Ellie said again for maybe the dozenth time. They'd been in the clinic for close to five hours. Dawn had come and orange light washed into the little room through the wide window, but Dean seemed oblivious to it.

"Longer it takes, the worse it is," Dean said darkly in response and shook his head. "Knew we should have waited."

Ellie stood from the uncomfortable chair she'd been sitting in and tossed an empty sandwich wrapper toward the trashcan, her third. She went to Dean and leaned against his arm. A nurse had helped her wrestle Dean's coat off when Ellie had cheerfully informed them that Dean was injured as well. She smirked. The snarl he'd given her would have been frightening if she didn't know him so well already. "If you'd waited, I'd probably be dead. I'm not. I get to live because of you, and so will Sam. There's always hope." Ellie knew she could have left, probably should have. She wanted to find Matt and see how he really was. Dean was being cagey about something, but she didn't think either brother had lied to her about Matt being alive. She desperately wanted to see him, but…she felt an obligation to these two men who had risked so much to save her and kill that…that monster. So she would wait with Dean until they both knew Sam was going to be alright. She knew Matt would understand.

"Dean." Dr. Simons opened the door to the room and pulled a green scrub cap off his head.

"Doc." Dean shoved himself off the bed and only barely stopped from taking hold of the man's shoulders and shaking him. "Tell me he's alright."

"He's going to be just fine, Dean. Sit back down." Dr. Simons gave Dean a gentle push back to the bed and smiled at both him and the woman. "I won't lie. One of the bruises did tear and he was bleeding into his abdominal cavity. It was depressing his ability to take a full breath which is why he lost consciousness in the car. It was a small tear, however. I've patched him up and, THIS time, when I say he needs to spend the next two weeks taking it easy, I damn well mean it." He finished the last on a glare for Dean. "I notice your brother has all new bruises on his back, and the nurse was only too happy to tell me how you seem to have gotten yourself clawed by…something."

"Uh…I can explain." Dean raised a hand and rolled his eyes when Dr. Simons went around behind him. Dean met Ellie's questioning eyes and gave a small shake of his head. He'd made it clear to her that telling anyone what had really happened would only get them in trouble or institutionalized. "They're not claw marks. I fell through the damn floor along with Sam."

"Uh huh." Dr. Simons pulled the back of Dean's scrub top to get a look at the marks and shook his head. Did they really think he was that stupid? "You need better lies, Dean."

"Hey!" Dean said and turned to glare at the man. "I have great lies!"

Dr. Simons was surprised into a chuckle and pulled the top back down to walk around in front of him again. "You'll both be staying here tonight." He raised a hand when Dean opened his mouth. "No arguments. I said I fixed the tear. I didn't say Sam was out of the woods yet. I need to monitor him for the next twenty-four hours to be sure, and you're going to let me."

"Or?" Dean raised a brow and bristled at the tone of ultimatum in the doctor's voice.

"I haven't called the authorities yet. I could." Dr. Simons hated playing this game. He liked both boys, but he didn't feel he had a choice. "I will do whatever it takes to make sure my patient is well before he leaves my clinic again."

Dean deflated like a stuck balloon and sighed unhappily. "Fine. But trust me - when he wakes up, I'm not the one you're gonna be arguing with."

Dr. Simons nodded with an understanding smile. "I remember." He sobered and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "Dean, I…I don't know exactly what it is that did these things to you and your brother, and normally the police would have been my first call. But something tells me you boys were doing something good." He turned to look at the sincerity shining out of Ellie's eyes. "They saved you, didn't they?" Ellie opened her mouth and then looked to Dean. "It's alright. You don't have to tell me. I've been reliably informed by both men that I don't actually want to know."

Ellie looked at him, and he watched as a shadow crossed her face, and, for a moment, a haunted look came into her eyes. She shook her head slightly and shivered. "They're right. You really don't."

The brief moment passed, and Dean smiled and nodded his gratitude for the man not pushing it. "Thanks, Doc. For me and for Sam."

Dr. Simons looked over his shoulder as the door opened again and grinned. "And it looks like your brother's ride is here."

Dean slid off the bed again and was at Sam's side before the nurse even had the gurney in place. "Sammy?" Dean put a hand to his brother's shoulder and felt another kick of guilt in the gut when he saw how pale and small he looked in the bed.

"The anesthesia should be wearing off anytime now." Dr. Simons took the chart the nurse handed him and looked it over with a happy nod. "His vitals are all where I want them to be. He's doing very well. Don't overtax him when he wakes, and for the love of God, THIS time don't let him move. He stays in that bed." Dr. Simons pointed an imperious finger at Sam.

Dean chuckled and raised a hand. "Promise, doc. He ain't goin' anywhere 'til you say." He meant it. "Hey, doc. Ellie here needs to get to Vegas General. Her boyfriend's there. He, uh…he took a little fall through the floor, too, a couple days ago."

Doctor Simons rolled his eyes and waved a hand. "I'm not even going to ask. I'll get a shuttle, dear," he told Ellie with a smile.

"Thank you." Ellie said gratefully.

"Find me at the desk out front when you're ready." Dr. Simons went to the door and stopped for a last glance back. "I mean it, Dean. He doesn't move from that bed or I'll tie you both down."

Dean laughed while the doctor let the door close behind him and eased a hip up onto Sam's bed. He looked over at Ellie and decided to come clean. "Ellie, about Matt…"

"He was hurt worse than you made out," Ellie said and nodded with a sad smile. "I kind of figured that out."

"Yeah." Dean reached out and put a hand on her shoulder to bring her closer. "That creature, it…he lost an arm. Maybe a leg too." Ellie's hands flew up to her mouth in horror as she stared at him. "He was alive when we left him there, and the doctors that took him seemed pretty sure that he was going to make it."

"Oh, my God," Ellie breathed and closed her eyes. "My poor Matt." Tears escaped to run down her face and she shook her head. "He saved me. That thing came for me first. He shoved me out of the way and put himself in its way so I could escape. He did that for me." She looked up to Dean with a watery smile. "He punched it in the head."

Dean smiled. "I knew I liked the guy. Look, you may not need it, but you should have that shuttle stop at a church and pick up some holy water." He squeezed her shoulder more firmly. "We didn't see any bite marks on him, but whatever made us sick might be inside him too. You know what to do?"

Ellie took her hands from her face and nodded surely. "Pour it over the wounds until it runs clear." She smiled again. "I can handle it."

"I know you can," Dean told her proudly and then whipped his head back to his brother when he felt Sam's chest hitch in a breath under his hand. "Sammy?" He took his hand back from Ellie and put it to the side of Sam's neck, once again wrapped in white gauze. He watched Sam's eyes flutter and open slowly and smiled down at him. "Welcome back. How you feelin'?"

Sam frowned and tried to orient his thoughts. The last thing he remembered was being in the car. "Where?"

"Clinic," Dean told him with another smile.

Sam's eyes widened a little with fear as he looked up at his brother. "M'alright?"

Dean nodded, still smiling. "The doc laid down the law. Your ass ain't movin' from this bed until he says so." His smile faded. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been, but you were bleeding internally, Sam. The doc says you're stuck here until he's sure you're alright, and then we're takin' a couple weeks off. Period."

"Hey, Sam." Ellie smiled and brought over a cup of water with a straw from the table. She held it for him and let him have a few sips before she set it aside. "I just wanted to say thank you before I left. I'm going to see Matt."

"Hope he's alright," Sam said sincerely. He smiled and blushed when Ellie bent and placed a soft kiss on his forehead.

"I can't ever thank you two enough," Ellie grabbed Dean's head and pulled it down to put another kiss to his head. "Thank you seems inadequate."

"It's enough," Dean told her and gave her a one-armed hug. "More than we usually get, believe me. You take care of yourself, Ellie."

"I will. Thank you, guys." Ellie smiled at them both and then left the room before she burst into tears.

"She's…she's sweet," Sam said softly and smiled, letting his tired eyes fall closed.

"Dude, she was kinda awesome." Dean chuckled. He patted his hand lightly on his brother's chest and let some of the fear he'd been holding onto since the hotel leave him. "You alright, Sammy?"

Sam nodded slowly. "S'alright." He smirked. "Painkillers…room's spin…spinning."

Dean chuckled and gave Sam's chest a last pat before he stood and went back to his own bed. "Get some sleep. We've earned it." He rolled onto his own bed and tugged the light blanket up over him.

Sam rolled his head over, following his brother's voice. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Sam?"

"We…we do good?"

Dean smiled and nodded even though Sam's eyes were still closed. "Yeah, Sammy. We did good. Killed the dragon and saved the damsel in distress."

Sam snorted softly as he started to slip back into sleep. "We get a…" he frowned in confusion. "Forgot what I was gon…gonna say."

"Go to sleep already," Dean laughed and closed his eyes.

"Dean?"

"What?" Dean groaned, amused and looked over at his little brother again. He waited and when Sam didn't say anything, Dean sat up to look at him. He snorted when he saw that Sam had fallen asleep with one arm dangling off the side of the bed toward him and his mouth hanging open while he started to snore softly. "Bitch," Dean said fondly and thumped back into his bed. He started making plans in his head of how to keep Sam on his back for two weeks and wondered how much whining he'd have to put up with when Sam found out they were going to stay in Vegas. Dean grinned as he fell asleep to the sound of his brother's soft, even snores.

**_-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-_ **

_The End._


End file.
